Collections From The McCord Files, Volume II
by CassandraMcCord
Summary: A second selection of 100 glimpses into the lives of the McCord family. Based primarily on tumblr prompts of various genres.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Welcome to volume two of Collections From The McCord Files! I'm so excited to be starting over with one-shot 101! Thank you all for your endless support.**

 **I had a prompt for the first time Henry or Elizabeth say "I love you" and a separate one based on a line of dialogue: "** **You told me you loved me and I freaked out because the last time somebody said that to me they left and I never saw them alive again"** **.** **This is the combined result- enjoy!**

It had been, up to that point, a normal evening for Henry and Elizabeth. The couple of several months had been sitting together on Henry's couch, Elizabeth leaned back against him, both of them with their school books open. As much as it was a necessity to study, it felt like a necessity to be together as well. The relationship, while still fairly new, felt serious to both of them. They were still somewhat cautious around each other in certain ways, but neither of them had ever had a relationship that felt like what they had between them, and that was enough to make them both hopeful in their own private ways. Henry expressed it through making dinner for her in his tiny apartment and Elizabeth expressed it by teasing him and letting him in bit by bit, and they understood one another. They were happy like that, going on dates and spending their evenings studying together and sometimes getting a little distracted by each other.

Well, maybe more than sometimes.

It was all new and beautiful and exciting, but on that particular evening in winter as Henry looked down at Elizabeth, it felt like more than that. With the warm light from the lamp next to his couch illuminating her face and her golden locks of hair escaping from their ponytail as a result of the makeout session they'd been having an hour ago, it felt like more than new and exciting. He watched the way her eyes so intensely scanned the page before her and the way she took it all in, the way she bit her lip a little bit in concentration, and to Henry, it felt like home. She felt like home, and in those moments he knew with shining, brilliant clarity that he was going to spend the rest of his life with Elizabeth Adams. It was as terrifying as it was exhilarating, to look over at her and think that she was the one human being he wanted to spend every single day with. It was a breathtaking realization, and not one that Henry wanted to keep to himself.

"Elizabeth?" he said, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled over them. She glanced back at him in response.

"Yeah?"

He met her gaze and took a breath.

"I love you," he said. It was as if the whole energy of the room shifted; he could almost see her shutting down before his eyes.

"What?" she asked.

"I said I love you," Henry repeated, although he was quite sure that she had heard him the first time. She drew in a breath, and Henry watched her. His golden glow was fading away at an alarming rate, and he wished desperately that he could rewind even thirty seconds and just keep his mouth shut, if only to keep her from looking at him the way she was now.

"I need some air," she choked, and just like that she was gone, off the couch and out the door, not even stopping to grab her coat. Henry stayed frozen in his spot on the couch, unsure what to do in response to Elizabeth's unexpectedly harsh reaction. He was running it over and over in his head, wondering what had prompted her to respond that way. It wasn't as if his love for her was some big secret; he may not have said it aloud, but if you'd asked him five minutes before he spoke the words aloud, he would have said without a doubt that Elizabeth knew he loved her. Now, he was left alone in the apartment to question everything, not least of which whether he should go after her.

Ultimately, after an agonizing several minutes of debate, Henry decided that he had to. He stood, grabbed his coat, and headed outside. On the sidewalk below his apartment, Henry turned from left to right, scanning his surroundings for Elizabeth. It was still early, only seven o' clock, but it was also January, which meant that it was dark. Frustrated, Henry picked a direction and started walking, hoping that he could even find her in the darkness. Luckily, he had picked the right direction; shortly after he'd started walking, he spotted her on a nearby bench, leaning forward with her head in her hands. He approached slowly, not wanting to startle her too badly. As he drew closer, he could see her shivering.

"Elizabeth?" he said softly. She looked up at him and sighed. "Sweetheart, it's freezing," he said, shrugging out of his coat so that he could drape it over her shoulders instead.

"You're going to be cold now," she said, her voice small and a little bit shaky.

"I'm fine," he said dismissively. "You're shaking."

"Thank you," she replied softly, drawing the jacket in closer around her body. She looked so small, sitting there wrapped up in his warm jacket but still trembling, whether with cold or with something else, Henry wasn't quite sure.

"I'm sorry if I crossed a line," Henry said a moment later. "I didn't mean to upset you."

Elizabeth chuckled lightly, shaking her head before she tilted it back to look up at the clear night sky above them.

"It's not that, Henry," she admitted. She looked over at him and met his gaze. "It's just that...you told me you loved me and I freaked out because the last time someone said that to me, they left and I never saw them again."

Silence followed her admission, and Henry sighed.

"Oh, Elizabeth," he breathed. "I'm sorry."

"No, see, this is exactly what I didn't want to happen," she sighed, sounding frustrated. "I've known it was coming, and I've been trying to prepare myself but...it turns out I still just wasn't prepared. I didn't leave because I was upset with you. I left because I was upset with myself for not reacting the way I wanted to."

"You reacted naturally," Henry assured her quietly. "No one would ever expect anything else from you, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth laughed through her tears.

"No, Henry," she corrected him, " _you_ wouldn't expect anything else from me."

She smiled slightly, reaching out to brush her cold fingertips over his cheek.

"That's what I love about you," she said softly, and Henry's heart skipped a beat in his chest. He caught up her fingers in his hand and pressed a kiss against the icy skin.

"I will never expect anything of you except for you to be you," he told her sincerely. "And," he added with a smile, "that you let me take care of you."

She smiled slightly, nodding her head.

"Speaking of which," Henry continued, "let's get you inside. It's freezing out here."

He stood and held his hand out to her, which she took, entangling her fingers with his. He started to head back toward his apartment building, but her tug on his hand stopped him, pulling him back to stand before her in the dimly lit space.

"Something wrong?" he asked. Elizabeth shook her head, taking a tiny step that brought her close to him. Resting her hand on his chest, she rose up on the balls of her feet to press her lips against him. She tasted of hot chocolate, and Henry smiled slightly against her.

"I love you, Henry McCord," she whispered into the darkness, her voice low and sincere, almost reverent. It sent a shiver down his spine, hearing those words aloud for the first time.

"I love you, too," he murmured softly, and this time, the words brought a smile to Elizabeth's face.

As they turned to head back inside, Henry decided that he would wait a while to tell her that he was pretty sure he was going to marry her someday.


	2. Tickle Fight

**Prompt: Henry and Elizabeth have a tickle fight (I got this twice in two different forms so this is for both of those anons)**

Henry was lying on his stomach, watching Elizabeth as she bit her lip in concentration, looking down at the file that was open on the bed before her. He could have just watched her for hours on end, and would never have gotten bored with observing every little movement that she made. He was endlessly captivated by her, even after three decades. She never failed to surprise and enchant him, and even as he lie there watching her, he was thanking his lucky stars that he had Elizabeth by his side.

However, he was also thinking that it had gotten just a little too quiet in their bedroom. He reached out, and seconds later, Elizabeth squealed as she pulled away from his surprise attack on her side.

"Henry," she said, the accusation in her tone undercut by the fact that she was laughing as she spoke.

"What?" Henry asked innocently.

"I'm trying to read this," she replied.

"Is it important?" Henry asked her, his hazel eyes sparkling.

"Yes," she laughed. "It's very important."

"Uh huh," Henry intoned. "Very convincing," he remarked, reaching out to tickle her again. In spite of it being the second time, she was still not prepared.

"Stop it," she laughed as she swatted his hand away.

"And if I don't?" Henry asked, tilting his head with challenge written all over his face. She looked over at him, debating what to do. Ultimately, she shook her head; Elizabeth McCord never backed down from a challenge.

"Then I'll have to tickle you back," she replied, pointedly returning her gaze to the file before her. Henry grinned and reached out a third time, fingers caressing the skin on her hip where her shirt had ridden up, just long enough to lull her into a false sense of security before they were tickling her again. She laughed, and lunged for him, not even caring that her file had slid to the floor, scattering papers everywhere.

"That's it," she said, and Henry laughed as he dodged her.

"I know your ticklish spots, McCord," Elizabeth threatened.

"Well, you have to get to them first, _McCord_ ," Henry taunted back at her. Seconds later, Elizabeth's fingers had found the ticklish spot on Henry's thigh and he fell back against the bed in fits of laughter.

"You were saying?" Elizabeth laughed.

"I was saying," Henry gasped, balancing himself so that he could use his own weight to flip them both around, "that I'm gonna win," he finished, and Elizabeth found herself breathless as he tickled her mercilessly while she squirmed beneath him.

"Henry," she groaned through her laughter. "Oh god, Henry, stop it," she begged.

"I will," he said, "when you admit defeat."

"Oh, not gonna happen," Elizabeth replied immediately, and Henry laughed. She managed to roll away from him and then back, the momentum catching him off guard and resulting in them tangled up on the bed, neither of them quite able to reach the spots they were going for. Ultimately, all they did was get themselves more tangled up to the point that neither of them could do much. Elizabeth giggled, falling back against his chest and turning her head to look up at him.

"Truce?" she suggested.

"For now," Henry agreed, and she laughed. Henry started to pull away, but Elizabeth caught him but his arms, still wrapped around her, and held him there in their unconventional embrace.

"What?" he asked, and Elizabeth snuggled back against him, looking up at him again.

"Remember the first time we did this?" she asked. Henry thought about it for a second, and then she watched his face light up with the memory of their first tickle fight, all the way back when they'd been college students, new to life and love and everything else, but so crazy about each other that it hurt.

Well, she thought, at least one part of that hadn't changed.

"Yes," Henry replied. "I also remember how that one ended."

Elizabeth remembered, too; she remembered fevered kisses and heated touches that had become soft moans and gentle biting and then evolved to something that she was pretty sure she could never forget.

"This one could end that way too, you know," she said softly, breath brushing against his skin and sending a shiver down his spine. Henry was suddenly much more aware of his body and its immense proximity to hers.

"I like the way you're thinking," he mumbled against her neck, pressing gentle, slightly open-mouthed kisses against the tender flesh there while his hands began to wander beneath the soft fabric of her tee shirt to roam over smooth skin.

"Tickle fights are the best," Elizabeth murmured in reply, and just like that, with him hovering over her, she might as well have been twenty again.


	3. Queen Elizabeth

**Prompt: The first time that Elizabeth hears Henry's siblings calling her "Queen Elizabeth", thinking that she's not around.**

Elizabeth hadn't been having a great time at Henry's childhood home in Pittsburgh. As kind and genuine and loving as Henry was, it had become clear to Elizabeth that that was not the case for all the members of his family. His brother, Shane, was nice if a little distant, and his younger sister, Erin, was a total sweetheart. His mother was one of the kindest women Elizabeth had ever met, and she could see so many of Henry's most beautiful qualities in her.

His father and his older sister, Maureen, on the other hand...well, Elizabeth now had a great understanding of why Henry had been so reluctant to bring her to meet his family. Patrick was set in his ways and outspoken, and Maureen was ruthless and opinionated. They were qualities that Elizabeth could admire, but with all of their energies having been pointed at her for the solid three days they had been there, Elizabeth was feeling more than ready to go back to school. She was exhausted; staying calm and being polite was definitely wearing on her. She had really wanted Henry's family to like her, and she'd been partially successful. Yet, every time Maureen or Patrick made some little sideways comment about her history, or her pedigree or her status, she found her heart breaking just a little bit. She was a tough girl, but even she had to admit that this was hard.

As Elizabeth descended the stairs, she sighed. Just one more day, Elizabeth, she told herself. As she walked, she caught her name, immediately recognizing that it wasn't Henry's voice, and paused.

"She's so…I don't know."

Having just met them earlier that week, Elizabeth wasn't sure who was speaking.

"You could lay off her, you know," came another voice, slightly annoyed, which Elizabeth was pretty sure was Erin.

"Oh, talking about Queen Elizabeth, are we?"

That voice, Elizabeth knew. After three solid days of taunting, Maureen's voice was very familiar to her. At her words and the somewhat uncomfortable laughter that followed before Henry's mother came in and the subject was changed quickly, Elizabeth found her heart hammering in her chest. Tears stung her eyes as she leaned against the wall in the stairwell. She let her eyes fall closed, and took a slow breath.

She had wanted to be part of a family for so long now- it felt like lifetimes, even if in reality it had only been a few years since she and Will had lost their parents. Her aunt and uncle were fine, she supposed, and of course she adored her little brother, even if he did make her want to throttle him from time to time. But it just wasn't the same. She supposed she had hung her hopes on the idea of being part of Henry's family a little more than she should have. She wanted to just be a part of it again, and when she'd gotten to know Henry and realized what an incredible man he was, she'd thought that maybe she might have a chance at that family again. Now, leaning against the wall in the stairwell of Henry's childhood home, with tears streaming down her cheeks, and she felt like she was right back at square one.

"Baby?"

Well, maybe not quite back at square one,' she thought as she registered Henry's voice at the top of the stairs. She turned to him, brushing hastily at the tears on her cheeks. She tried to paste a smile on her face, but judging by Henry's concerned expression, she wasn't doing a very good job.

"Come here," he said, holding out his hand to her. She hesitated, but then headed up the stairs, took his hand, and let him lead her into his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

"Are you okay? What happened?" he asked, but Elizabeth just shook her head; she didn't want to drag Henry's family through the mud right to his face.

Henry, however, was pretty sure he had a good idea of who in that house had the ability to make Elizabeth cry. He sighed, reaching out to pull her into his arms.

"I'm sorry about Maureen," he said softly. Elizabeth laughed in spite of herself; she should have known that Henry would know what was wrong despite the fact that she hadn't wanted to tell him. It was just like him, and among the many things that she adored about him.

"What did she do?" he asked. Elizabeth sighed.

"It's not really a big deal, Henry," she said, attempting to dodge that. However, the look on his face stopped her.

"She called me 'Queen Elizabeth'," she admitted, but shook her head as he opened his mouth to object. "It's fine," she said. "It's not worth the fight."

"It is to me," Henry argued, but Elizabeth managed a small smile as she leaned in to kiss his cheek.

"Come on, Henry," she pleaded. "It's just one more day. Let's just get through it without causing more discourse."

"She can't just talk to you like that," Henry replied. Elizabeth smiled slightly.

"Look, Henry," she sighed, "I haven't been a part of a family in a long time, and yours is...raucous and loud and messy. It's everything I could want in a family. This is just my first time meeting them, you know, maybe things will get better with time. I don't want to alienate my only shot at having that family again."

Henry nodded reluctantly, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

"You're really something, Elizabeth Adams," he declared, and she chuckled before she took a deep breath and rested her head on his shoulder.

 _Just one more day._


	4. Just Breathe

**Prompt: Henry is in an accident while working with DIA and when Elizabeth makes it to the hospital she's told he's fine, and he looks and acts fine, but she leaves the room to take a call and when she gets back she is told he's gone.**

 **This was from an anon on tumblr- enjoy!**

 _Elizabeth couldn't help but hold her breath as she rushed to get to Henry. It had been a whirlwind ever since she'd been told that he'd been injured working with DIA. She was pretty sure that she was supposed to be in some kind of meeting at the moment, but there was no chance that she was going to be anywhere but at Henry's side._

 _Rounding the corner, she was faced with familiar hazel eyes and a drowsy smile, and her heart flipped in her chest._

" _Henry," she breathed as she moved closer to him._

" _Hey, babe," he said with a sweet smile up at her that made Elizabeth feel weak in the knees._

" _Are you okay?" she asked, her words a rush as she reached out to run a hand through his hair._

" _Yeah, I'm okay," he replied. "Don't worry, baby. I'm okay."_

" _Yeah, okay," she sighed. "You're sure?"_

" _Yes, Elizabeth, I'm certain," he said dismissively, and she nodded hesitantly, still unable to take her eyes off of him. Just then, her phone started to ring and Elizabeth groaned._

" _Take it," Henry said, squeezing her hand gently as he offered her a soft smile. "I'm not going anywhere, go ahead. It's fine."_

" _Henry, I-"_

" _It's okay," he pressed. Elizabeth sighed, nodding reluctantly. She kissed him quickly._

" _I love you," she said._

" _Love you, too."_

 _Then, with one final look at her husband, Elizabeth stepped out into the hallway to answer her phone and handle whatever crisis was going on at the State Department in her absence._

 _By the time Elizabeth finished on the phone, she was more than anxious to get back to Henry. She crossed the hallway from the little waiting room that she'd ended up in and headed back to his room. Upon arriving there, however, she found a crowd of people surrounding the eerily silent monitors and Henry blocked from her view. Her heart sped up instantly as a feeling of inexplicable dread overcame her._

" _Henry?" she said, uncertain. A doctor turned toward her, and Elizabeth could see it written all over his face before he even opened his mouth._

" _No," she breathed. "No. Henry?"_

" _Ma'am, let's go out into the hall," he began, but Elizabeth shook her head._

" _No, I want to- I need to speak to Henry," she said._

" _I'm so sorry," the doctor said again._

" _I was just talking to him," she insisted. Pushing past him, Elizabeth caught a glimpse of her husband's still form lying on the bed. Suddenly dizzy and feeling sick, Elizabeth fell back against the wall and sank to the floor, his name leaving her lips on a choked sob._

"Henry!"

Henry awoke to the sound of his wife's anguished cries for him. Instantly, he was wide-awake and on high-alert. He looked over at her in the dark, finding her still asleep and wrapped up in her nightmare. Heart breaking at the way she was calling for him, he reached out to shake her into consciousness.

"Henry," she gasped as she slipped out of sleep and into awareness. She reached for him blindly, jolting awake and scrambling to sit up, desperately seeking him out with trembling hands.

"Elizabeth," he murmured. She looked at him, panicked blue eyes meeting his, and Henry watched her with concern as she gasped for breath.

"Henry," she sobbed.

"Okay, honey, just breathe," he told her soothingly. "You're okay. Just take a breath for me, Elizabeth."

She reached for him and he instinctively pulled her close, taking note of the way she clung to him.

"It's okay," he assured her. "Everything is okay, babe. You're alright."

He was pretty sure that Elizabeth was attempting to tell him what her nightmare had been about, but he was only catching about every third word between her sobbing, so he just held her close, wishing that he could take it all away from her.

"Shh," he murmured. "Just breathe, sweetheart. Just breathe." He rubbed her back soothingly, rocking slightly back and forth as she wrapped her fingers in his tee shirt and let him hold her. He hadn't seen her this vulnerable in a long time- years, probably- and it was breaking his heart.

"I couldn't- Henry, I just-"

"I know," he told her, even though in truth he had no clue what she was talking about. "I know, baby. You're okay. I'm right here. Just take a breath, okay? Can you do that for me?"

He was worried that she was going to hyperventilate at this rate, so he gently brushed her hair back from her face and met her gaze.

"Elizabeth, honey, breathe," he said slowly. "There you go. You're alright. Everything's okay."

Slowly, she began to calm down, but she didn't move from her position curled against his chest and clinging to him in a way that she hadn't in a very long time.

"Are you okay, babe?" he asked quietly. She nodded slightly.

"Yeah, I think so," she replied shakily.

"You want to talk about it?" he asked.

"You were in the hospital," she began, "but you were fine. And then my phone rang, and I took the call, and I left you...for just a few minutes, and when I came back from talking on the phone, you were-"

"Okay," Henry said softly, pulling her just a little bit closer. "It's alright. Just a dream, Elizabeth. I'm right here."

She nodded, but he could feel the way her fingers tightened around his shirt.

"You think you'll be able to get back to sleep?" Henry hummed against her hair. She shook her head, and Henry glanced over at the clock.

Four-seventeen a.m.

"Come on," he said softly, starting to slowly pull away from her. He glimpsed fear in her eyes and quickly reached out, offering his hand to her as she followed him from their bed. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to her head as the two of them headed downstairs to the kitchen, where Henry flicked on the lights.

A few minutes later, they were curled up in the den together, waiting for sunrise with matching cups of coffee, and Elizabeth rested her head against Henry's shoulder, closing her eyes briefly.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"Always."


	5. Permission

**Prompt: Elizabeth finds out years later that Henry asked Will's permission for her hand in marriage and it makes her both incredibly happy at his sweet gesture, but sad her parents never got to meet Henry.**

 **I love doing these little extensions on scenes. As always, thank you for reading.**

"Marriage?" Elizabeth interrupted, with no small amount of alarm. Henry threw his hands up in response.

"That's what I said!" he exclaimed. He continued emptying the pockets of his blue jeans, tossing the contents atop his nightstand. "I mean, don't these kids have other steps first, the way we did?"

Elizabeth gestured earnestly, agreeing before he was even finished speaking.

"I know," she said emphatically. "Like….living together, breaking up, and living together."

Henry, too, overlapped her words.

"We didn't break up," he said as she finished. "I-I just needed a little time to freak out," he continued as he headed through the closet to their bathroom. "It was the worst five days of my life," he added.

"Three," Elizabeth corrected him.

"Followed by the greatest proposal ever," he continued.

"Ah yes, the discount skywriter," Elizabeth said, her voice floating into the bathroom from where she sat on their bed. "Mar Me, Elibet," she said. Henry grinned around his toothbrush as he wandered back into the bedroom.

"Hey, it worked," he said, and Elizabeth smiled just slightly as she tugged her glasses from her face.

"It did," she admitted, but her mind was quickly back on her daughter. "But wait…" she said, turning her body to face her husband. "So what did you say?" she asked him anxiously. Henry paused in brushing his teeth, looking a little caught.

"I said yes," he told her, and watched her face change.

"Without talking to me?" she asked incredulously. Henry shrugged and headed back to the bathroom.

"Wow!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "So did you guys just full-on Edith Wharton this and act like my voice wasn't going to matter?" Henry cringed slightly as he spit out his toothpaste. "Did you negotiate a dowry?" Elizabeth asked. Henry shook his head as he stepped back into their bedroom.

"I-honestly, babe, I was so stunned, I might have actually turned into an idiot," he admitted as he toed out of his shoes.

"Huh," Elizabeth replied.

"It was really more E.M Forester," Henry began as he pulled off his socks, "because of the whole English thing." He sighed as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "Look, it's- it's really just a formality anyway," he told her. "He's going to do what he wants."

"Well, what do we say if she says yes?" Elizabeth asked while she watched Henry unbuckle his belt. Henry sighed.

"I don't know," he admitted. "He's such a great guy, but they're so young." elizabeth nodded along with him while he pulled himself out of his jeans.

"That's what we say," she said, gesturing a little more intensely than normal. "We love Jareth," she continued as Henry climbed onto the bed beside her. "But we will love him even more in two years." Henry sighed as he met her gaze and then looked away.

"Okay, let's just see what happens," he suggested. "It's just getting engaged," he added as he settled himself beneath the blankets.

"Exactly, exactly," Elizabeth replied, sounding as if she were trying to convince herself more than anything. "And they can take their time getting married. I mean, some- some engagements go on forever," she remarked as she settled on her pillows, looking up at Henry. "My brother and Sophie?" she said, just to drive the point home.

"Oh, yeah, like fifteen years, right?" Henry scoffed.

"Yeah," Elizabeth laughed.

"Did they ever get married?" Henry asked.

"I don't know- I think so," Elizabeth answered, taking just a second to reflect on that- had they gotten married? They had, right? They had. Eventually.

She sighed after a beat of silence, anxiously pulling herself back up to look at her husband.

"You know what," she began, "this...is kind of a champagne problem. I mean, this terrific guy with a fellowship to Oxford in physics wants to marry our daughter." She looked earnestly up at Henry, desperately needing him to assist in her construct to make them feel better.

"I think we'll survive," Henry said, sounding like he thought the exact opposite.

"Yeah," Elizabeth laughed, and it didn't quite sound like a laugh. Henry settled in next to her, looking over at her and seeing their daughter in his wife's face.

 _Oh god, Stevie._

Silence settled over them for a moment as it all seemed to sink in on them both.

"Oh, Henry," Elizabeth said, and all the teasing and bravado was drained from her voice. "Our baby."

Henry felt her words like a lead brick in his chest, reaching out to run his hand along her arm, never taking his gaze off of her face.

"I know," he said.

There was another few seconds of silence, and then Elizabeth decided she wasn't ready to give it up yet.

"He actually asked you if he could ask her to marry him?" she asked aloud, more for herself than for Henry. He chuckled lightly in response anyway, though.

"Yeah," he breathed.

"Wow," she sighed, shaking her head. She rolled herself onto her back, flopping down on the pillow just a little bit dramatically.

"Well, hey, at least you didn't have to deal with that question, right?" she remarked offhandedly.

"Oh, no, I did," Henry said casually. Elizabeth sat back up, looking over at him.

"What?" she asked. He glanced in her direction, then Henry sighed, tilting his head as he shrugged slightly.

"Before I proposed to you," he began, "I went to see Will."

Elizabeth gaped at him.

"How did I never know this?" she asked. Her husband shrugged again, not moving from his spot.

"I don't know, I just never mentioned it, and then after a certain amount of time, it was just...a non-issue, I guess." He smiled at her. "It was a fun conversation."

"Well- tell me about it!" she demanded. Henry laughed at her determined gaze.

"I went to his place, told him why I was there...he asked me why on earth I thought I needed his permission. Then he got into it a little bit," he added on a laugh, "and gave me a heartwarming little speech about how I better not ever hurt you. It was good."

Elizabeth shook her head, and then fell back next to him.

"Unbelievable," she said. "Going on thirty years and I never had a clue. I'm not sure whether to be offended or impressed."

"Well, I was just grateful," Henry admitted. "It felt like a big deal at the time."

"Aw, it was a big deal," Elizabeth replied. "We were just babies, permission to get married was a huge deal." Henry chuckled and then silence settled over them for a moment.

"Henry?" Elizabeth said, and he immediately took in the shift in her tone.

"Yeah?" he replied, looking over at her. He met her eyes across the pillows and she smiled a little bit sadly.

"My dad would have loved you," she said softly. Henry felt something melt a little bit in his chest, but his heart ached for her in that moment.

"I'm sorry I never got to meet him," he said, soft and sincere. Elizabeth nodded her head, blinking back tears.

"Me, too," she said.

"Oh, baby, come here," Henry murmured, reaching out to take her into his arms.

"I'm so not ready for her to get married," Elizabeth said against his neck as she curled her fingers around his tee shirt.

"I know," Henry sighed. "Me, either."

There was another beat of silence.

"It's going to be okay," Henry said softly against her, and she nodded, praying that he was right.


	6. Baby Boy

**Prompt:** **Elizabeth and Henry find out they're having a boy and while Henry slightly freaks out, Elizabeth is so excited with the idea of a little Henry.**

Henry was quiet as they drove home from Elizabeth's appointment. Stevie was at school, and Alison was with the babysitter for a couple of hours, so it had been just he and Elizabeth at the appointment, which had been quite an eventful one. They'd been there to find out the sex of their third baby, the baby that they were quite certain would be their last. Henry had been expecting the news to be that they were having another little girl. He wasn't entirely sure why he'd been so anticipating the announcement of a third daughter, but he had been, and he'd been fairly shocked when that had not been the news they'd received. Baby Boy McCord was healthy, as was Elizabeth, so of course Henry was grateful. Yet, something nagged at him as Elizabeth talked to him about how excited she was.

 _Could he really be a good dad to a son?_

That was the question that raced itself around and around inside Henry's head that afternoon. He thought about his own dad, and how difficult their relationship had always been. Sure, things would probably be okay when this baby was young; Henry could manage sandboxes and toy trucks if that was what his son was into. He could certainly do tea parties and dress-up, if he liked that. But...what about later? What about when his son hit the teenage years? What about when he was in his dad's position and their son was pressing his buttons? Would he hear Patrick McCord coming out of his mouth?

It was all a frightening concept.

"I mean, a boy," Elizabeth was saying. "A little Henry McCord."

Henry managed a half-smile at her as they pulled into the driveway and Elizabeth froze. She was normally extremely perceptive, but in her excitement over the fact that she was going to have a baby boy in her family, she had completely missed Henry's silence and its implications.

"Henry?" she asked cautiously. "Are you okay?" He nodded in response, but he was entirely unconvincing.

"What is it?" she pressed, and Henry sighed. He turned the car off and leaned back in the driver's seat, glancing over at her before he returned his gaze to the steering wheel.

"I just...I don't know if I'm going to be able to be the kind of dad to a boy as I am to Stevie and Alison," he admitted. He had hoped that it would feel good to say it out loud, but it didn't. In fact, it just made him feel worse. After a moment of silence, he risked a glance over at his wife, finding her studying him.

"Is this about your dad?" she asked finally, and Henry scrubbed his hand over his face.

"Yeah, pretty much," he admitted. "Listen, I just don't want to end up like that. You know? Like...bitter and distant and…"

"Henry," Elizabeth intoned, reaching out for his hand. She settled her palm against his and met his gaze across the center console. "You're not going to end up like that."

"How do you know?" he asked, and Elizabeth could detect the hint of desperation in his tone. She smiled slightly, reassuringly, and reached out with her free hand to brush her fingers through his hair affectionately.

"Because I know you, Henry," she said simply. "And the fact that we literally just found out we're going to have a son, and this was the first thing you were thinking about? That just shows me that you are never going to let it happen. This baby is just as lucky as our girls to have you as their dad."

Henry couldn't help but soften at her sincere words; even though he was still worried about a whole host of things that came with having a son, there was something about hearing Elizabeth's faith in him that made it feel just a little bit less overpowering.

"You're really something, Elizabeth McCord," Henry remarked with a soft smile and tender love in his eyes. Elizabeth grinned at him, and then leaned in to press her lips against his in the soft kind of kiss that still took Henry's breath away.

"Can we please be excited now?" Elizabeth pleaded when they pulled apart, and Henry couldn't help but laugh.

"Yes," he replied. After all, the teenage years were far off, and he was excited at the prospect of another little McCord.

"Yay," she said, blue eyes sparkling with the kind of joy that Henry had always strived to bring her. Seeing her light up like that, Henry thought, was worth any hardship that this life had to throw at him.

As they climbed out of the car and headed toward the house, Elizabeth tugged him back by his wrist and he looked expectantly at her.

"Henry," she said as she drew close to him. "We're going to have a baby boy soon."

"Yeah, we are," he agreed, brushing her hair back from her face with a gentle touch. His hand rested on her cheek as he pulled her in close and kissed her. She smiled against him, and in that moment, Henry was pretty sure that everything was going to turn out fine.

With her by his side, how could it not?


	7. Mess

**Prompt: Henry comes home to find that the kitchen looks like a bomb went off.**

 **There were a lot of ways this could go. I went with fluff...or hurt/comfort? Something like that. Maybe both.**

"Elizabeth?" Henry called as he stepped into the house. He could smell something burning, and he didn't see his wife or their young daughter anywhere, so he picked up his pace as he headed for the kitchen.

"Hi Daddy!" came the cheerful voice of three-year-old Stevie through a faint haze of smoke.

"Uh...hi, sweetheart," Henry replied, looking around at the scene before him. The counters were covered with food and dishes, not to mention no small amount of flour. He was pretty sure he had never seen their kitchen so messy before, and at the center of it all stood his wife, leaning forward over the counter and looking as if she were just seconds from a breakdown. On top of the stove, the remains of what Henry thought once had been something edible sat, still smoking.

"Uh, Stevie, sweetheart," Henry began, reaching out to lift her from where she was sitting in her booster seat at the table.

"Yes?" she asked, looking up at him with bright blue eyes.

"How about you go and play in the next room, okay?" he asked, with a glance back at Elizabeth, who still had not spoken.

"Okay," Stevie agreed, and then she was squirming out of his arms and racing off to the playroom, where he knew she couldn't get into any trouble considering that the only things in there were her toys and books.

When she was gone, Henry turned quickly to go to elizabeth's side, reaching out to run his hand over her shoulders.

"Babe?" he said gently. "Are you okay?"

She took a shuddering breath, and he watched her shut her eyes, sending tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Okay," Henry said soothingly, tugging her away from the counter and into his arms. She struggled slightly, but then she rested her forehead against his shoulder and cried. He rubbed her back and held her against him.

"It's okay," he said. "Just breathe."

Slowly, she started to calm down, but one glance around at the kitchen and she was right back against his chest, with her head against his neck, and Henry ran his hand over her hair, his hand coming to rest at the base of her skull.

"It's alright, Elizabeth," he said softly. "It's going to be okay."

"This was important," she mumbled against his skin, the first words she had spoken since he had arrived home.

"Why?" Henry asked, and Elizabeth sighed heavily.

"I was going to make dinner for you and it was going to be a whole thing, because I have something to tell you and I just wanted it to be perfect but now of course it won't be because I literally don't think I could make a decent meal to save my life," she groaned.

Henry was grateful that she couldn't see the smile that played across his features at her ranting.

"Baby, that's not true," he replied. "Remember that spaghetti you made for us the first night in this house? With garlic bread and everything."

"The sauce was from a jar and the garlic bread was frozen," Elizabeth huffed, and Henry nodded.

"Yes, but it was delicious," he replied, and she managed a half-laugh at that. Henry smiled; he hated seeing her so upset.

"What was it that you wanted to tell me, though?" he asked, suddenly processing what she had said.

"Oh," Elizabeth replied. "Um...well, I can show you, since the dinner thing was such a spectacular failure."

"Okay…"

She took his hand and tugged him along behind her, past the playroom and into the master bedroom. She stopped and turned to him.

"Wait here," she instructed before she ducked into the bathroom and returned seconds later, a small object concealed in her hand.

"Here," she said, holding it out to him. Henry let her drop it into his palm and looked down, the sight physically stealing his breath away as he looked between his palm and his wife, who was watching him closely.

"You're pregnant?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Yeah, hence the whole emotional breakdown in the kitchen," she laughed, and in the next second she was wrapped up in his arms. He held her tight and she breathed a laugh at his intense reaction.

"Who needs dinner?" Henry laughed. "We're having another baby!"

Elizabeth laughed and he leaned in to kiss her, warm and sweet and familiar, and she melted against him.

"Okay, so...Chinese?" he suggested, and Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders.

"I guess so," she laughed. "We certainly aren't eating what's in the kitchen."

"No," Henry agreed, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as they headed back out to check on Stevie, "I want my wife and unborn child eating something that resembles food," he teased.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

"Watch it," she warned, but Henry just smiled. He couldn't wait to meet their newest little addition.


	8. Brothers and Sisters

**Prompt: Stevie and Jason find out about Ali's sexuality from over hearing their parents talk about it, and are hurt that their sister didn't tell them when she told their parents**.

"I just wish she had told us before," Elizabeth was saying. Jason and Stevie glanced at one another from across the hallway; they were both pretty certain that they weren't supposed to be listening, or at the very least that their parents weren't aware that they were. Stevie was just on the verge of telling her brother that they should just go into their rooms and stop eavesdropping when she heard her dad's voice.

"I mean, if we'd known that Ali was gay we could have done a lot of things to help her."

"At the very least talk with her about it," Elizabeth agreed, but by that point, neither Stevie nor Jason was really listening. They looked at each other in the silence, identical shock mirrored on both faces.

"Come here," Stevie hissed, and Jason glanced over at their sister's closed bedroom door before he crossed the hallway and disappeared into Stevie's bedroom. She closed the door behind him and turned, both of them looking at each other.

"Ali's gay?" Jason asked.

"It's new to me, too," Stevie assured him as she sank onto her bed, gesturing toward her desk chair, which Jason took.

"Well...what are we going to say to her?" Jason asked.

"I don't know if we can say anything to her," Stevie admitted. "We're not even supposed to know."

"Yeah, but that's just it," Jason said. "Why wouldn't she tell us?"

Stevie shrugged her shoulders and silence settled over the eldest and youngest McCord children. They were both feeling equally hurt and left out by the fact that their sister hadn't told them that she was gay. They were supposed to be the bookends; Stevie was her big sister, the person who Alison had come crying to whenever anything went wrong. And Jason was her baby brother; they'd been on the same side of everything for their whole lives, even when they weren't. In their own ways, Jason and Stevie had been trying to protect Alison for most of their lives, and the idea that she'd been living such a huge part of her life without them was unsettling to them both.

"I mean...did she think we would care?" Jason asked into the quiet, voicing the question that they'd both been wondering.

"I'm sure she knows we wouldn't," Stevie said, although she didn't quite sound convinced.

"Maybe we should talk to her," Stevie ventured. "But not tell her that we know. Maybe- maybe we could just tell her that if she were, we wouldn't care."

Jason seemed to contemplate that for a moment.

"Do you think she'll realize that we do know, though?" he asked. Stevie shrugged.

"Not if we're careful," she replied, though she herself was a little uncertain. Slowly, their plan came together, and when Jason headed back to his own bedroom that night, they had decided what to do. Several days later, Stevie and Jason got their opportunity. Henry and Elizabeth were rushing out the door for a White House briefing, leaving the three McCord siblings temporarily alone. As soon as the door had shut behind them, Stevie locked eyes with her brother, and he nodded.

"Hey, Stevie, did you ever have any classmates that were gay?" Jason asked, going for nonchalant. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Alison hesitate, and then continue pouring coffee into her mug.

"Yeah, actually," Stevie said. "I had one."

"Yeah, I have one, too," Jason agreed. "You know what I've always thought was really ridiculous?"

"What?" Stevie asked, while Alison still just stood quietly by the coffee pot.

"When people judge other people for that," Jason began. "I mean, what does it matter?"

Alison sighed, slamming her coffee cup down on the counter as she whirled around to face her siblings.

"Okay, who told you?" she demanded. Jason and Stevie looked at each other.

"Told us what?" Jason attempted, but Alison shook her head.

"Don't, Jace," she said. "You guys are painfully obvious."

"No one told us," Stevie admitted. "We overheard Mom and Dad talking about it."

"And instead of asking me, you decided to…" Alison trailed off, unsure what exactly her brother and sister had been trying to do.

"We just wanted you to know that we wouldn't care," Jason said. "Since we thought maybe that was why you told Mom and Dad but not us."

Alison looked around at them both, unsure what to say.

"Ali, you're our sister," Stevie said. "We just were…" she looked over at Jason, suddenly unsure of herself.

"We just didn't know why you didn't tell us," he summarized. Alison looked around at the two of them, her annoyance fading fast only to be replaced by affection for her siblings.

"I was going to tell you," she assured them. "It's just...it's a process. I promise I was going to tell you, and soon. It was just a really big deal to tell Mom and Dad and I wanted some time to process that before I did it again."

Jason and Stevie looked at each other; that made sense, and they were feeling a little bit silly for jumping to conclusions.

"Oh," Jason said, and Alison laughed.

"Did you guys really think that was a good plan?" she asked. Stevie laughed, shaking her head as she moved toward her sister.

"In hindsight, not so much," she admitted.

"Stevie's idea," Jason remarked.

"Shut up," Stevie tossed at him, and Jason grinned. Alison reached out to hug them both in turn.

"I love you guys," she said. "But you really need to work on your stealth skills. Our spy parents would be really disappointed," she added over her shoulder as she walked out of the kitchen, leaving Stevie and Jason alone. Stevie tossed a dishtowel at her little brother, who ducked so that it fell in the sink with a shrug.

"Turned out okay," he remarked, and then he was gone, too. Stevie just shook her head, thinking to herself that she was a pretty lucky big sister.


	9. Shattered Glass

**Prompt: At a State function, someone drops a glass, and Henry has to calm Elizabeth down.**

 **This is a prompt given to me by Sarah, whom I adore, and I adore the prompt as well so here you go.**

Elizabeth looked stunning. Henry could barely keep his eyes off of her in the tight, black, backless dress that she was wearing. In fact, he was having trouble holding a conversation with the...well, the person, that he was talking to. Henry hadn't caught his name, or his job title. He'd been too busy staring at Elizabeth across the room. Now, he struggled to focus on what the guy was saying, but the sound of her laughter had drifted across the room to meet Henry's ears and he was gone again, entranced by the way her whole body lit up when she was laughing. He couldn't help but think about how close he had come to never seeing that sight again. He shivered unconsciously at the memory of what had happened in Iran and shook his head, trying not to think about it. It didn't matter now; she was home, safe, and laughing, and that was the important part.

"Sorry, what did you say?" he asked, forcing his attention back to the man in front of him. He opened his mouth, presumably to repeat whatever Henry had missed the first time, but the sharp, sudden sound of shattering glass silenced them both. The room was eerily quiet for a split second, and then as everyone realized that it had just been an accident involving a tray of glasses, conversations began to resume. The guy in front of Henry was speaking again, but Henry didn't hear a word. His eyes had landed on Elizabeth, and he knew in an instant that something wasn't right. To the average person, she might have seemed completely normal, but not to Henry. He could see that she wasn't okay, and he didn't even bother to excuse himself to the man who was still speaking to him. He just walked away, making a beeline for Elizabeth, who was standing very still. When he got close to her, he could see the slight tremble of her hands and the shallow way that she was breathing. She jumped slightly when he touched her arm, and the gaze that found his was fearful and dark.

"Come here," he said softly. "We're gonna get you out of here."

He took her hand and led her silently out of the room, into the blessedly empty hallway. They stopped across from the doors to the hall that the event was being held in, mostly concealed from the partygoers by a conveniently placed staircase. Once there, Henry turned to face her; even as they had made their exit, her breathing had become more shallow and now, he found her all but gasping for air. Her eyes were darting back and forth in panic and she held his hand tightly in hers, fingernails digging into his skin.

"Okay, Elizabeth," he said soothingly, keeping his voice low and even. "You're okay. Baby, look at me."

She didn't seem to hear him, so Henry applied gentle pressure to her hand as he spoke.

"Elizabeth, baby, look at me," he repeated. This time, she responded, eyes locking on his as she continued to grasp his hand tightly. He could feel her engagement and wedding rings against his skin, and he forced himself to focus on her and not get lost in his own head. He hated seeing his fierce Elizabeth like this, but he would take it over not having her at all any day. Anything was better than that, as far as he was concerned.

"You are okay," he said. "You're home, and you're safe. Nobody is going to hurt you, Elizabeth, I promise. You're okay."

"Henry," she breathed, sounding shaky. It tore at his heart, but he just nodded his head.

"Yeah. I'm right here," he assured her. "It's okay. Just breathe, alright? It's okay."

"Okay," she managed.

"See? There you go," he said encouragingly. "Just like that, babe. Just breathe."

"Henry, that sound," she whispered.

"I know, honey. I know. It was just an accident; nobody is getting hurt. Everything's okay, I promise," he said, slowly rubbing circles into her skin with his thumb. He wanted to wrap her up in his arms and hold her tight, but he knew better than to make the first move. She would come, when she was ready.

Moments later, her grip on his hand no longer quite so tight, she took a step forward and collided with his chest. Henry felt it in his heart as he wrapped his arms around her slender shoulders and held her close.

"I've got you," he murmured against her hair, careful not to completely destroy her curls should she want to head back inside. "It's okay."

Silence settled over them, and Henry just held her there against his chest, grateful that she was safe. The events of Elizabeth's trip to Iran had not only shaken Elizabeth, but also Henry. His hand slipped along the open back of her dress until it brushed the slightly raised remains of what had been the open wound she'd returned from Iran with. She didn't flinch; she was used to it. Ever since she'd returned, Henry had been fixated on it, and now she didn't mind the touch at all. Not since he'd explained it to her in the darkness of their bedroom one night.

" _Why do you keep touching it?"_

 _Henry sighed in response to Elizabeth's question. She'd gotten her stitches out three days earlier, and his feather-light touches on what had been an open wound were driving her just a little bit insane._

" _To remind myself," he confessed quietly. Elizabeth turned herself so that she was facing him, head resting almost on his pillow as she observed him in the dim light._

" _Remind yourself of what?" she asked._

 _He met her eyes in the faint light that streamed across their bed from the hallway._

" _That you made it home," he admitted. "That you're still here."_

And that had been the end of it; Elizabeth couldn't bring herself to mention it after that quiet nighttime admission, and now it had become another strand in the fabric of their life. She leaned against him and took a slow, deep breath.

"Are you okay?" Henry asked silently.

"I think so," she replied. "Thank you," she added, looking up to meet his gaze.

"You saved me from a really boring conversation," Henry replied lightly, "so I think I should be thanking you."

That brought the ghost of a smile to her face, but Henry's heart still ached. He wanted to see her laughing again, lighting up all over with joy. He sighed softly, reminding himself that she was okay, and that laughter would come. Elizabeth, after all, was the strongest and most resilient human being he had ever met. She would be okay.

"What do you say we get out of here?" Henry suggested, and Elizabeth looked skeptically over at him.

"I'm not sure I can leave," she said uncertainly, but Henry just shrugged.

"It's a State function," he pointed out, "and you're the Secretary of State. I think that gives you license to do what you want." Elizabeth chuckled drily at that; leave it to Henry to turn it all around in her favor.

"That's one way to look at it," she admitted, glancing around the empty hallway and at the door indecisively.

"Alright," she agreed. "Let's go."

"Okay," Henry said. "You go out there, and I'm going to sneak back inside for a minute."

"Why?" Elizabeth asked, both curious and cautious. She still wasn't feeling entirely herself, and she wasn't sure how she felt about being separated from Henry just then. But Henry shot her a reassuring smile and kissed her cheek.

"I'm going in after the piece of cheesecake Blake set aside for you," he told her, reveling in the way her eyes lit up at that.

"Oh, Henry, you're an angel," she sighed, and he laughed.

"Get out of here before you get caught," he urged. "I'll meet you out back," he added with a wink. This time, she laughed, and Henry couldn't help but smile at the sight.

Yeah, they were going to be okay.


	10. Crashing Down

**Prompt:** **The first time Elizabeth realises that she can't live without Henry is when he gets into a car accident after a few years of dating, and the thought that she might lose him makes her feel sick.**

Elizabeth sighed, glancing over at the phone on the end table. She was starting to get a little bit worried; Henry should have been home an hour ago, and yet she was still alone in their little apartment. Looking down at the ring on her hand, she tried to distract herself with their recent engagement and not think too hard about worst-case scenarios. Yet, Elizabeth was a product of her experiences and she couldn't help but remember the way it had felt, being home alone that afternoon, wondering where her parents and her little brother were and why it was taking them so long to get back. She couldn't help but feel the same sickening sense of dread now, as she had when the doorbell had rung and she'd gone to answer it only to find a distraught and dirty Will, accompanied by two police officers with grave faces. She shook her head, trying to focus on the book she was reading and not think that way. Henry was fine, she told herself. Soon, he would walk through the door and apologize for being late, and he'd be prepared with some story that would make perfect sense. He would be a little bit of a mess, thanks to his rush to get home to her, and she'd melt a little bit at his wayward hair and then he would kiss her in that warm, familiar way and everything would be okay. She'd feel silly for worrying, but Henry would think it was sweet, and he would hug her and reassure her that he was fine, and then they would have dinner together and everything would fall back into place exactly the way it was supposed to.

Even as she told herself all of that, and hoped desperately that it would be true, something tugged at her chest and she couldn't quite believe it. She slammed her book closed and sighed, biting her lip as she looked over at the phone again. She was on the verge of standing up to pace back and forth solely so that she would have something to do when suddenly, the phone started to ring. She'd been half-anticipating it, but she still jumped at the sound in the otherwise silent apartment and dove for it, reaching for the phone and putting it to her ear as quickly as possible.

"Hello?" she said into the phone, breathless and hoping that it was Henry.

"Elizabeth Adams?"

At the unfamiliar and professional voice speaking her name, Elizabeth's heart dropped.

 _No. This can't be happening. Not again. Not Henry, too._

"Yes?" she managed.

"I'm calling on behalf of Henry McCord, we have him here at UVA Hospital," the unfamiliar voice informed her.

"What happened?" Elizabeth asked, closing her eyes and bracing herself for the worst.

"He's been in a car accident."

As Elizabeth made her way to the hospital, those words reverberated in her brain.

 _He's been in a car accident._

It was like living her worst nightmare over again, except somehow worse. Losing her parents to a car accident had been awful; in fact, it had been the worst day of her life. Yet, as Elizabeth leaned against the wall in a hospital elevator that was moving too slowly, she was struck by the realization that losing Henry might actually break her. It was slightly terrifying, to realize that she was that attached to him. They had just gotten engaged, so of course she had known that she was attached to Henry. What she hadn't quite realized was that she wasn't sure that she could live without him. Now, faced with his mortality in the most brutal way, she was pretty sure she couldn't.

When the elevator doors finally slid open and she was able to step out into the cool halls of the hospital, Elizabeth felt as if she were going to be sick. Even the thought of Henry in this sterile, cold, unfeeling place made her shiver. They hadn't told her much on the phone, and she hadn't really stopped long enough for them to, anyway. Now, she found herself wishing that she could just stay in this limbo of unknowing forever. That, she thought, as unbearable as it was, would certainly be better than receiving the news that she was dreading. However, she squared her shoulders and approached the desk she'd been directed to. In those moments, forcing herself to put one foot before the other and move forward, Elizabeth found herself praying to whatever God Henry knew that he was somewhere in this hospital, safe and not...well, that was a sentence that she didn't want to finish.

"I'm Elizabeth Adams," she said, and the nurse at the desk looked up at her. "I got a call about my fiance, Henry McCord? He was in a car accident."

Even saying the words made Elizabeth's stomach churn.

"Yes," came the reply. "Come with me."

Elizabeth wanted to ask, wanted to demand to know what she was walking into. But something kept her silent as she followed behind the unnamed woman who was leading her down the hallway. She wasn't sure what was keeping her quiet, except that when she tried to speak, her words caught in her throat and she had to fight to even breathe.

"Right through here," the woman told her, gesturing to a small room that didn't even have a door, just a cubby with a curtain. Elizabeth just nodded, and the nurse turned to walk away, leaving Elizabeth all on her own. She didn't even notice the way that her hand trembled as she reached for the edge of the curtain and drew it back to look inside. Her heart seemed to stop inside her chest at the sight before her.

Henry was resting on the tiny bed at the center of the room, sporting a bandage on his ankle, which was elevated, and a variety of bruises and scratches in addition to a small array of stitches on his left temple. However, at the movement of the curtain, he looked over at her with familiar hazel eyes that lit up at the sight of her and Elizabeth found that she could barely breathe.

"Elizabeth," Henry said, soft and understanding, and it was as if her whole world had fallen out from beneath her feet, so great was the relief that rushed over her.

"Henry," she choked, tears she hadn't noticed streaming down her cheeks. His bright eyes clouded over with concern as he reached out to her.

"Hey, baby, come here," he said, and she took a hesitant step forward, not entirely trusting of her own body to hold her up. A moment later, however, she had made it to his side, and he reached out to take her hand. His touch on her skin, it seemed, was the final straw; Elizabeth crumbled into the chair next to him. Had it not been there, she was quite certain she would have hit the floor.

"Okay, okay," Henry said soothingly as she lowered her head to the mattress despite the fact that it smelled like antiseptic. He reached out, burying his fingers in her soft blonde locks of hair, attempting to soothe his sobbing fiance as best he could.

"Henry," she managed again, and his heart broke for her. He knew what this must have been like for her; in fact, it had been on his mind ever since his arrival at the hospital.

"It's okay," he assured her. "It's alright, baby. I'm right here."

"I was- I thought," she began, trying to speak as she looked up and her blue eyes met his. "It- Henry, I-"

"Hey, it's okay," he said. "I know. I know. Just breathe. It's alright. We're both here, safe and sound. See? It's okay. Just breathe."

It had not escaped Henry's notice that Elizabeth had been shaking like a leaf from the moment that she arrived in his little cubby, and as he reached out to caress her cheek gently in his palm, he watched her closely. She took a shuddering breath and ducked her head, slowly calming herself.

 _He's okay_ , she told herself as she tried to do as he'd asked and breathe. _He's fine, Elizabeth. He's okay. He's okay._

She repeated it over and over in her mind, and slowly she calmed down a little bit. Her hands still shook, but she was breathing almost normally and the tears had slowed, if not stopped entirely.

"Are you okay?" she asked, looking up at him with a desperate kind of fear in her eyes.

"I'm fine," Henry assured her. "Just a little banged up, but totally okay."

"Okay," she breathed. "I thought-"

"I know," Henry replied, wanting to cut her off before she got herself worked up again. "I know. Come here," he said, and Elizabeth willingly moved herself into his arms. He wrapped her up against him and smoothed his hand over her hair as he pressed his lips against her forehead.

"I'm okay," he said. "We'll be out of here and home soon, okay?"

Elizabeth nodded against him, letting out a breath against his skin.

"I love you, Henry," she breathed, hoping that her meaning was clear. Henry closed his eyes and held her just a little bit tighter.

"I know," he said, and she felt a rush of relief at the knowledge that he, as he always did, had understood her perfectly.

 _He's okay. Everything is okay._


	11. First Date Ramblings

**Prompt: An anon on tumblr asked me to write something about Henry and Elizabeth's first date and I decided to base it off of this prompt that I had saved: Elizabeth inexplicably starts babbling on her first date with Henry, rambling through her entire life story, which she's never told anyone before. Afterward, she's terrified that she's scared him off.**

 **Side note, this lowkey reminds me of the story Tea told once about meeting David Duchovny for the first time and that makes me just a little bit emotional.**

 **Another side note, I wrote this before last week's episode and then when Elizabeth was rambling on their "date" with Piper's parents I got so excited because it's canon that miss Elizabeth Adams McCord rambles on first dates.**

Elizabeth smoothed her napkin over her lap nervously as she shot Henry a smile across the table. Even as she sat there, she was entertaining an internal debate. There was something about Henry that had drawn her in from the moment they met; the warm manner and gentle eyes of the handsome young man from her political theory class had spoken to her in ways she had far from anticipated. Yet, as she sat across from him while they waited for their meals to arrive on that first date, Elizabeth was asking herself what the hell she was doing there. He'd asked her out three days earlier, and it had been as if she had been inhabited by someone entirely separate from herself, and she'd said yes. Henry had looked just as surprised as she felt, but they'd set up the date for Friday evening and now here they were, sitting across from one another at an intimate little restaurant that made Elizabeth uncomfortable.

"Elizabeth, do you have siblings?" Henry asked, leaning forward slightly. He was clearly genuinely interested in her as a person, and she could appreciate that even as she wondered whether she should be on this date at all. It wasn't that she didn't like Henry; just the opposite, in fact. She liked him a lot, more than she was comfortable with. It was scary to like someone as much as she liked Henry McCord, and after years of relative solitude, she wasn't quite sure how to handle it.

"Yes," she replied. "I have a brother. He's, um, he's two years younger than me." Henry was watching her raptly as she spoke, so she decided to keep talking. This she could handle, she thought. Talking about things she was familiar with. At least that way she couldn't dwell on how panicky she was on the inside.

"His name is Will, and he's kind of a brat, actually, but I love him. I don't know if you have siblings, but I think everyone sort of grudgingly loves their siblings, right?" She nervously tucked her hair behind her ear. "Then again," she continued, "that might just be me, considering that I have a somewhat odd situation. My parents were incredible people and Will and I had a totally normal, happy childhood. But then my parents died in a car crash when I was fifteen and that...well, I'm sure you can imagine how that changed things. So I guess that could account for my protectiveness over Will, because he was with them at the time and I was at home doing math homework." She laughed mirthlessly. "I think I protect him because I feel guilty, truth be told. Guilty that I wasn't there, you know? Some part of me just feels like it should have been me; I was his big sister, and he had to see them like that and I was just at home. So anyway, after my parents died it was sort of downhill overall. It's been a really lonely few years, because my aunt never really wanted children and so there were a lot of boarding schools and not a lot of time for me to be with Will, actually, so I think on some level I feel guilty for that, too."

Suddenly, Elizabeth glanced up at Henry and horror washed over her as she drew in a sharp breath and reached for her water glass in the silence. Henry opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off, pusing back from the table.

"I'm so sorry, I just-" she left it there, hurriedly reaching for her coat as she turned on her heel and walked out of the restaurant, not even hearing Henry calling her name behind her. As she emerged from the door into the cool autumn air, tears stung the backs of her eyes. She just turned, walking blindly down the street and across toward the nearby park.

"Great," she muttered to herself as she turned, looking for somewhere to go. Spotting a bench to her right, she made a beeline for it and sank onto its surface, leaning forward to rest her head in her hands.

She couldn't even believe that she had just told Henry all of that. He was essentially a stranger, albeit a handsome one who was clearly very interested in her. She exhaled heavily, thinking about all of those lonely years. Henry had seen something in her, and he might have been her ticket to a more enjoyable life, one with companionship and possibly a family to surround herself with again. That is, until she had gone and told him her whole life story in one rambling, jumbled go. She laughed mirthlessly to herself; no guy in his right mind would ever want to be around her after that spectacle. He'd just asked her if she had siblings, and instead of a polite, simple conversation, it had quickly turned into what she was pretty sure was going to go down in history as the worst first date ever.

The sound of footsteps alerted her as she was wallowing in her annoyance with herself, and she glanced up, shocked to find Henry approaching the bench.

"Henry," she said.

"Hi," he replied. "Mind if I sit?"

"I- sure, I guess," she stuttered. She watched him in confusion as he calmly sat down next to her, leaning back and taking in a breath as if everything about the situation was normal- which, Elizabeth thought, it certainly was not.

"I've got three siblings," Henry said after a moment of silence. "Two sisters and one brother. Maureen is the oldest, then me, and then Shane and then Erin." He chuckled. "You know, I think you might be right about having to love your siblings despite how incredible frustrating they are. I mean, Maureen is-"

"I don't understand," Elizabeth said, cutting him off. He glanced over at her.

"You don't understand what?" he asked.

"What you're doing here!" she exclaimed. "Why did you follow me?"

"Well, I was under the impression that we were on a date," Henry replied lightly. Elizabeth stared at him.

"Are you insane?" she asked. Henry grinned.

"I don't think so," he began, pivoting his upper body toward her on the bench, "but if being here with you makes me insane, then-" he shrugged his shoulders "-then yeah, I guess I am."

Elizabeth could hardly comprehend what she was hearing.

"You really want to spend time around me after that?" she asked. Henry smiled.

"Yes," he replied simply.

"Why?" she inquired.

"Because I think you're incredible," he told her. "And you're cute when you ramble."

Elizabeth scoffed and Henry grinned at her.

"Come on," he said, standing and holding his hand out to her. "That restaurant was not really my scene, but there's a bowling alley near here with the best burgers I've ever eaten. You in?"

"Burgers and bowling?" she asked.

"Burgers and bowling," Henry confirmed with a heart-melting grin.

She stared at his outstretched hand for a moment, and then smiled in spite of herself.

"Alright," she agreed on the breath of a laugh, reaching out to take his hand. He met her eyes and smiled at her, and in that moment, hand in hand with Henry McCord, Elizabeth couldn't help but have hope.

Maybe, she thought, there was more to this guy than she'd given him credit for.


	12. Romancing The Girl

**Prompt: Alison or Stevie goes to Henry for dating advice.**

 **I thought this was kind of funny considering that I headcanon Alison as being gay so I'm not really sure what this is but I hope you enjoy it.**

Alison bit her lip, squaring her shoulders as she hesitated on the steps of the Georgetown brownstone she'd been calling home since she was fifteen. She could see her dad, sitting alone in the den with a book open in his lap, and she knew that this was her chance. She'd been trying to get Henry alone for close to a week now, and she knew she had to seize the opportunity while she had it, before her bossy big sister or annoying little brother or well-meaning Mom showed up and tried to help. No, this was a conversation that Alison specifically needed to have with Henry, because her dad was the most romantically successful person she knew, and Alison desperately needed advice.

If anyone knew how to romance a girl, Alison figured it had to be Henry McCord.

After all, her mom still looked at him like he hung the moon in the sky just for her, and that was after three decades and as many children. She was sure that if he could do that, he could help her get a date with the pretty blonde in her drawing class. Alison took a deep breath and then forced herself forward. This was no time to debate over it.

"Dad?" she asked, catching Henry's attention. He glanced back at her.

"Hey, Noodle," he greeted her. "What's up?"

"Well…" Alison began, slowly sinking down onto the couch beside him in the den. "I was just wondering if you could help me with something."

Noting her cautious tone, Henry closed his book and set it aside, turning his full attention on his middle child.

"Of course," he replied. "What is it?"

"I need your advice on how to be romantic," she blurted out, and Henry paused for a moment, meeting her deep, soulful brown eyes.

"Being romantic?" he repeated, and Alison nodded.

"Look, it's just that...I don't know, I grew up knowing how it works to play the princess role. I got that from Disney movies and rom-coms," she told him. "But I'm realizing that I have absolutely no idea how to do it the other way around and, you know, I'm not exactly in a position to just sit back and wait for a prince to sweep me off my feet."

"Is there something in particular prompting this?" Henry asked her, and Alison sighed.

"It's Caroline," she said.

"The girl you had that presentation with?" Henry asked, hoping that he'd managed to recall that correctly. Alison nodded her head.

"Yeah, that's her," she confirmed. "I really like her, and I want to ask her out, but I just don't know how to do it, and…" she trailed off, and Henry stayed silent, waiting for her to gather her thoughts.

"I'm asking for your help because you're the most romantic person I know," she admitted. "And you got Mom to love you for a really long time so you must be doing something right."

Henry couldn't help but laugh at that, thinking to himself that if only it were that simple, he would be in good shape.

"What?" Alison asked.

"Ali," Henry began, "it's not like that. You can't just whip up some romantic date night or grand gesture and have that be enough."

"What do you mean?" Alison asked slowly. Henry looked over at her, and for just a moment he saw the inquisitive, shy little girl with the softest dark curls who was always hiding behind her confident big sister. It felt like it had been just yesterday that he'd scooped that little girl up in his arms with such ease and twirled her around. It never failed to make her laugh, and Henry adored the sweet sound of little Alison's laughter. He adored the sound of her laughter now, too, this sophisticated, adult version of the little girl with the dark curls. He smiled slightly at her, reaching out to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. His heart ached in those moments; he wanted nothing more than to protect her sweet soul from all the dangers of the world, including that of heartbreak.

"Honey, relationships can't be built on that kind of foundation," he told her gently. "If you build something on the foundation of showmanship, even showmanship rooted in genuine feelings, it's going to crumble. You have to start slowly."

"I don't really understand," Alison said.

"Okay, you know why your Mom and I work the way we do?" he asked. She shook her head.

"Why?" she asked.

"Not because I was romantic," Henry chuckled. "Because we built a foundation. I got to know her. I gained her trust. She gained my trust. We grew to love one another, and yes, there was romance but not the kind you see in the movies. It was a lot more subtle than that, and it all started with that foundation of mutual trust and respect for one another as individuals."

"So...no grand gestures is what you're saying?" Alison asked, and Henry smiled as he reached out to wrap his arm around her shoulders.

"I'm saying take it slow. Don't jump off the high dive before you test the waters. Be her friend first, get to know her, and take it from there."

"Okay," Alison agreed. She looked up at him and smiled.

"You give pretty good dating advice," she said, and Henry grinned at her.

"Well, I did okay on the dating scene," he replied, and she laughed as she rested her head on his shoulder.

Later that evening, as Elizabeth and Henry moved easily around one another in their nightly routine of getting ready for bed, Henry glanced over at his wife. No matter how familiar he was with her, she never failed to take his breath away. He'd always felt he had gotten luckier with Elizabeth than he'd ever deserved; in fact, he'd wondered more than a few times over the last three decades if the other shoe was ever going to drop. It all just seemed too good to be true; even on their worst days as a couple, he had adored Elizabeth, and counted himself incredibly lucky to have her at his side.

"So Alison asked me for dating advice today," he said. Elizabeth, seated at her dressing table, glanced over her shoulder at him.

"She did?" she asked. "Why?"

Henry chuckled.

"Because I know how to romance a girl, apparently," he told her, and she laughed.

"Are you?" she asked. Henry smiled as he approached from behind and wrapped his arms around her, dropping a kiss to the top of her head before she leaned her head back against him and smiled up at him.

"Well, I must have done something right," he said softly, leaning in to press an upside-down kiss to her lips.

"So what did you tell her?" Elizabeth asked as she disentangled herself from him and moved toward her side of the bed.

"I told her that it's not about romance," he replied honestly. "You know, that it's about building a foundation of trust."

Elizabeth looked over at him and smiled. In that moment, she wondered how on earth she'd gotten so lucky.

"I love you, Henry," she said, knowing that would be enough to get her point across. Judging by the way his hazel eyes softened as he leaned in close and drew her in with a hand on her cheek, fingers burying in her hair, Henry got the message.


	13. The Magic of Moms

**Prompt: Alison is pregnant but she struggles to tell Elizabeth because she feels she can never live up to the kind of mother Elizabeth has been to her.**

Alison bit her lip as she pulled into her parents' driveway. She'd been holding onto this news for well over two weeks now, and she knew that it was time to tell her parents about their upcoming grandchild. It wasn't that Alison wasn't excited; in fact, she had wanted this for a long time and she had never been so thrilled in her entire life. The idea of becoming a mother was the most exciting thing Alison had ever faced. At the same time, however, she found herself more anxious than she'd anticipated.

It had hit her the day after they'd found out that they were expecting a new addition to their family, when the overwhelming joy had faded just enough for reality to sink in a little bit. She'd glanced over at the photo that she kept on her bookshelf, the one of her parents, her siblings, and herself. It had been taken in the early 2000's, when she was just a little girl and Jason was still a baby. Alison couldn't recall who had taken the photo, but it was one of her very favorites, because everyone, even Jason, had been looking at the camera- except for Alison and Elizabeth. With Jason on her lap and Stevie sitting on the steps to Elizabeth's right, in between her parents, Elizabeth was looking to her middle child, who was leaning against her mom's side, looking up with adoring eyes at Elizabeth, who was laughing. It was plain to see, even in the old photograph, how much love existed there in Elizabeth's eyes as she gazed down at her daughter, gentle hand on Alison's back and sweet smile on her face.

Elizabeth McCord had been, and still continued to be, the most incredible mother Alison and her siblings could ever have asked for. She'd exceeded expectations in nearly every way, and Alison was incredibly grateful to have had a mom like hers. However, as she thought back on Elizabeth's strength, grace, love, and mercy throughout Alison's life, she felt as if she fell incredibly short of her own mother. How could she ever live up to someone like Elizabeth?

Now, she sighed. It was better just to talk to her than to keep it all inside, she told herself as she pulled herself from the car and headed inside.

"Mom?" she called into the stillness, and Elizabeth appeared around the corner, the picture of effortless beauty as she smiled at her daughter, blue eyes sparkling.

"Hey, Ali!" she said as she approached. "What are you doing here?" Elizabeth asked as she wrapped her arms around her middle child, thrilled to have her dropping by for an unexpected, but welcome, visit.

"I can't just show up for no reason?" Alison asked jokingly.

"Well, of course you can," Elizabeth replied with a laugh. "You just usually don't."

Alison nodded as she followed her mom through to the kitchen.

"Well, actually," she began, watching as her mom finished up the cleaning she'd been doing prior to Alison's arrival, all practiced, fluid movements and efficiency. "I'm not here for no reason this time, either," Alison admitted, and Elizabeth chuckled.

"You know, somehow I figured as much," she remarked, and Alison smiled to cover up her nervousness.

' _Stop it, Alison,'_ she told herself. ' _It's just your mom. You can tell her.'_

"So what's up?" Elizabeth asked, leaning back against the counter with an expectant look over at her daughter.

"I have news," Alison said, biting her lip. "I'm pregnant," she said quickly, like ripping off a band aid. She glanced up in time to watch her mom's face light up.

"Alison, that's incred- wait."

Elizabeth was studying her intently, and Alison knew that she wasn't getting anything by Elizabeth.

"What's wrong?" her mom asked. "Are you not happy about this?"

"No, I am," Alison assured her. "I'm thrilled. It's amazing," she said.

"Okay…" Elizabeth began slowly. "Then what am I missing here?"

"Who says you're missing anything?" Alison asked, picking nervously at the hem of her blouse.

"Ali," Elizabeth intoned, and her daughter sighed.

"It's stupid," she said.

"I doubt that," Elizabeth replied. "Tell me what's going on."

"Well...I'm happy," Alison reiterated, looking up at Elizabeth and then back down; this was easier if she looked at the tiles on the floor. "But right after I found out, I was looking at that family picture that I have on my shelf, and I was thinking about what an incredible mom you were to us. You were like...some kind of superhero. You were so real and so loving. We all adored you, and we still do."

"Sweetheart, I'm touched," Elizabeth began, "but I don't really see your point."

"It's just that I don't know if I could ever measure up," Alison admitted. Tears were stinging her eyes and she sighed in frustration; she'd promised herself that she wouldn't cry, and yet here they were.

Elizabeth, meanwhile, was melting. Alison had always been her most tender hearted, empathetic child. She'd been more emotional than her brother and sister, and she'd been the sweetest of the three as well. Now, with her sweet girl on the journey to motherhood herself, Elizabeth found herself emotional as well. The idea that Alison could ever think that she wouldn't measure up to Elizabeth was, to Elizabeth herself, almost laughable.

"Oh, Alison," she sighed, and moments later she had wrapped her arms around her daughter, holding her tightly in the center of the kitchen. Alison couldn't help but melt into her mom's arms; she'd always been somewhat powerless to resist the comfort of Elizabeth's hugs. She buried her head against Elizabeth's shoulder and Elizabeth smoothed a hand over Alison's hair. Grown up and married with a baby on the way or not, Alison was forever going to be Elizabeth's sweet little artist.

"Baby, you are going to be the most incredible mom," Elizabeth whispered. "You're going to do so much more than measure up. You're going to surpass in so many ways, and you're going to feel like you fall short, just like I did."

"You felt like you fell short with us?" Alison asked in a small voice, and Elizabeth laughed lightly.

"Only every day," she admitted. "It's part of being a mom. You feel like you could have done so much more, been so much more, given so much more. But then you know what?"

"What?" Alison asked, as Elizabeth pulled back slightly. She smiled tenderly at Alison, tucking a strand of Alison's hair behind her ear as she met the soulfun brown eyes that she'd fallen in love with so long before, holding her second baby girl for the first time.

"You look at that sweet baby," Elizabeth began, "or toddler. Or kid, or teenager, or full-fledged adult, that person that you made, and they look at you, and…" she shrugged her shoulders. "It's like magic, Ali. That's what gets you through it. That's how it was for me anyway. I didn't get to be a good mom to you and Stevie and Jason because of me. I got to be a good mom to you because you are magic."

Alison laughed through her tears, pulling her mom close again.

"I love you, Mom," she said softly, and Elizabeth felt her heart ache in her chest with the immense gravity of the love she held there for the baby, toddler, little girl, bratty teenager, and incredible woman she held in her arms in that moment.

"I love you too, sweetheart," she said softly. She pulled back to look at her again, with a bright smile that made Alison feel warm.

"I'm so happy for you, Noodle," she said affectionately, and Alison smiled.

"Thank you," she said, holding her mom's gaze, and Elizabeth knew that she didn't just mean for the congratulations.

"I can't wait to meet that little Alison," Elizabeth sighed, and her daughter laughed.

"You and me both," she replied, and just like that, things felt okay again. That, Alison guessed, was just the magic of moms.


	14. Practice Makes Perfect

**Prompt: Henry and Elizabeth sign Stevie up for band in middle school, but now listening to her practice is getting on everyone's last nerve.**

"Mama?" Elizabeth looked down at her six-year-old son, who was looking up at her with pleading hazel eyes.

"Yes, honey?" she replied, speaking up to be heard.

"Can you make Stevie stop please?" Jason asked, and Elizabeth sighed. They had signed their eldest, twelve year old Stevie, up for band lessons. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, until they had brought home her brand new instrument and she had set her mind to practicing. It seemed that was all she was doing these days; practicing. From the time she arrived home each day until dinner, the house was filled with the screeching sounds of a brand-new band player.

"I'm sorry, baby, she needs to practice," Elizabeth told Jason, who physically deflated at her words.

"It hurts my ears," he said, and Elizabeth fought not to laugh.

"I know," she replied. She crouched down in front of him. "But hey, how about you and I go outside and we can play until it's dinnertime and then she'll be done for tonight, okay?"

Jason cast a skeptical gaze toward the stairs and then looked back at his mom.

"Do you think we'll still be able to hear it outside?" he asked.

"Let's hope not," Elizabeth breathed as she stood and held her hand out to him.

Later, Stevie came bounding down the stairs and the rest of the McCords looked up at her.

"Hi, honey," Henry said from his place at the kitchen island, where he was nearly finished getting dinner ready. "How's the practicing going?"

"It's fine," Stevie replied. Henry nodded, thinking to himself that he would venture to say that it was a little less than fine, but said nothing.

"Can you go and let your Mom and Jason know that dinner's ready?" he requested, and his oldest child nodded willingly, heading out the back door to relay the message to her mom and brother. Just then, eight-year-old Alison approached Henry, looking around cautiously.

"What's up, Noodle?" he asked.

"Is Stevie in here?" she asked. Henry shook his head.

"Daddy, can you please make her stop practicing?" Alison begged. "Please? It's killing me."

Henry struggled to keep a straight face.

"Sweetheart, I can't ask her not to practice," Henry replied. "She's got to practice if she's going to get better at it. Practice makes perfect, right?"

Alison sighed.

"I guess," she said as she slumped into one of the chairs at the table. "I just hope she learns fast."

Silently, Henry had to agree with her.

"Henry, I think my head is going to explode," Elizabeth declared as she flopped down on top of their bed that night.

"Stevie?" he guessed, and Elizabeth nodded, flipping her body over to look at him as he emptied his pockets onto his bedside table.

"Who knew a flute could possibly sound that awful?" she asked in a hushed tone. Henry chuckled.

"Not me," he admitted. "I thought we would be relatively safe with the flute, but...apparently, not so much."

"No kidding," Elizabeth laughed. "Poor Jason asked me to make her stop because it hurt his ears." Henry laughed, nodding his head.

"Alison asked me the same thing," he admitted. "She said it was 'killing her'."

"Yeah, it's killing me too," Elizabeth laughed. "Why on earth did we think it was a good idea to sign her up for band?"

"Honey, I honestly have no idea," Henry said as he fell onto the mattress next to her. Elizabeth had just opened her mouth to speak when Stevie appeared in their doorway.

"Mom, Dad," she said, and they both looked up at her.

"What's up, honey?" Henry asked.

"I came to tell you that I'm quitting band," she announced, and Henry and Elizabeth glanced at each other.

"Why?" Elizabeth asked.

"Because I hate the flute now," she answered. "Goodnight!"

"Stevie-"

But she was gone. Elizabeth sighed, looking back at her husband.

"We have to tell her that she has to finish out the semester, don't we?" she asked. Henry grimaced, but nodded his head.

"Yes," he replied. "She has to understand commitment and responsibility and-"

"Well, we made her play soccer for-"

"Elizabeth," he interrupted, and she groaned aloud as she fell back against the pillows again.

"I know," she said. "This is some kind of karmic payback, isn't it?" she asked, and Henry laughed.

"Probably," he said. "But at least it's character building."

"Wow, that is so hot," Elizabeth whispered.

"Bet I can make your head explode for a different reason," Henry whispered as he rolled closer to her, and Elizabeth just laughed.


	15. Six Months

**Prompt: Henry goes on an undercover mission in which everyone, including Elizabeth, has to believe that he's dead.**

Elizabeth couldn't breathe. And when Elizabeth couldn't breathe, she turned to Henry. Except now, she couldn't turn to Henry. Henry was the reason that she couldn't breathe. No, that wasn't right.

Not having Henry was the reason that she couldn't breathe.

He was supposed to come home in two days. She'd just spoken with him yesterday. This op had been nothing. It had been nothing. She hadn't even been worried when she'd said goodbye to him in their kitchen earlier that week. She had just kissed him like she always did, quickly and easily and like she was going to have a million more opportunities to do so- because she was. She was going to have a million more opportunities. Wasn't she?

The words "presumed dead" echoed in Elizabeth's head. She couldn't stop hearing them, spoken into her home office in the grave voice of the man who had been her mentor, and who was now her President. Now, he was also the bearer of the worst news that Elizabeth had ever received. She'd known that something was wrong when Conrad had arrived at the Georgetown home that she shared with Henry- _oh god, Henry_. Still too numb and shocked to cry, though she was sure that would come, Elizabeth looked over at his empty desk. She wondered if he had suffered. There had been a bomb, and they were quite sure that they wouldn't find a body. The thought made her sick. She couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't breathe. Her heart physically ached within her chest, and she felt as if it were being torn from her body with every second that passed. What was she going to do? How could she ever even move from that spot in her office knowing that she would never hold Henry's hand again, would never feel the way he snuggled against her in his sleep or feel the tender brush of his fingers through her hair when he thought she was sleeping and didn't know he was there. How could she even take a single breath knowing that he wasn't coming home?

"Mom?"

 _Oh, Stevie_. How could Elizabeth even look at their children? How was she going to tell them? Something in her, though she didn't know what, propelled her to glance over at her daughter, standing in the doorway of the office, behind Henry's desk. There was worry in her eyes.

"What's wrong?" she asked cautiously. Memories flew through Elizabeth's head; she could see Henry with their oldest child from the day she was born until their quick half-hug in the kitchen the other morning before Henry had headed out. Their last hug.

"Stevie," Elizabeth heard herself say. "I need you to get your brother and sister."

There must have been something in her voice, because Stevie just nodded and turned on her heel and, moments later, all three of her children were there before her and Elizabeth didn't even have the heart or presence of mind to move the whole operation to the living room. She was certain that she couldn't have moved if she had tried, anyway.

"What's wrong?" Alison was asking, voice pitched high with anxiety. Elizabeth didn't look at her. Alison had Henry's smile. Jason had his eyes. Stevie had his mind; she thought just like her dad sometimes, so much so that it had always been very entertaining to Elizabeth. Not now, though.

Now, she couldn't even look at them.

"Is this about Dad?" Jason asked. He was so much more perceptive than they gave him credit for.

"Yes," Elizabeth admitted. Her voice didn't even sound like her own. She forced herself to look up at them, knowing that she was about to destroy their whole worlds, forever. The gravity of that was not lost on Elizabeth, even though she herself could barely form thoughts. She knew that she was about to alter the rest of their lives irreversibly, and she wondered fleetingly if they were going to hate her for it, later.

"Guys," she breathed, shaking her head slightly. "Dad's not coming home."

There was shocked silence following her words, panic swelling in the room like the crescendo of a particularly tragic piece of music.

"What?" Stevie asked.

"He's dead?" Jason asked, voice hushed and sharp all at once.

"No-" Alison began, but then she looked at her mother and it hit her. He was. Her brother was right; that was exactly what Elizabeth was trying to tell them.

Elizabeth glanced around at all of them. Stevie was pale and still, while Alison had already begun to sob and Jason looked as if he was going to be sick. Tears slowly rose to Elizabeth's eyes as pure, utter despair enveloped the four remaining members of the family she and Henry had built together.

A lifetime of love and hope and tender, beautiful moments, gone. Shattered in an instant. Elizabeth sat there in the silence with her children, wishing that she could wake up and find Henry next to her. Silence echoed around them, and Elizabeth wondered if she would ever be able to breathe normally again.

 _Six months later…._

"Why are we doing this?" Jason asked. Elizabeth sighed wearily; since Henry's death, her youngest had become almost completely impossible to deal with. He'd been hard to handle to begin with but now...now she found herself wondering if it was even worth it to speak to him sometimes.

"Because the President has asked us to," she answered. Elizabeth and her children had been summoned to the Oval Office. The details were vague, but she thought it had something to do with honoring Henry. She didn't really care, truth be told, but she knew it was her duty to go anyway. She had a sliver of hope that it would bring the kids some peace, but she wasn't counting on it. Alison had slept in Elizabeth's bed every night for the past six months, and she'd never seen Stevie so dispassionate. She was quieter now than she'd ever been, and it was more than unnerving.

The whole situation was disheartening, and that didn't even touch on Elizabeth herself. She was barely holding it together, and she spent a great deal of her time sitting very still. She found that if she just didn't think, it was all a lot easier to deal with. Everything in the house reminded her of Henry, and yet she couldn't bring herself to change anything. They were all in therapy, but Elizabeth had to admit that it didn't seem to be helping anyone at all.

"Alright, guys, let's get going," she said, smoothing a hand over Alison's hair as her middle child poked disinterestedly at the cereal in her bowl. "You ready, Noodle?" she asked. Alison just nodded, and the cereal went into the trash, and the McCords filed silently out of the house.

At the White House, Russell Jackson led Elizabeth and her children into his office. Elizabeth surveyed him as he straightened papers unnecessarily and looked anywhere but at her or the kids.

"You seem awfully jumpy," she remarked, and he looked up at her, more deer in the headlights than she'd ever seen him. He did not reply, and suddenly Elizabeth was overcome by fear. A glance at her kids found them much the same way; they were exchanging nervous glances and she couldn't help but start to wonder what exactly they were here for.

"Is there something wrong, Russell?" she asked.

"No," he answered evenly. "Everything's fine."

But for the first time in six months, Elizabeth's perceptive nature was rearing its head. She could tell; something was off about this whole situation. She just couldn't tell what it was.

"Russell-" she began, but he met her gaze and shook his head. Something about it reached her, and she fell silent.

Meanwhile, behind the door to the Oval Office, Conrad Dalton turned to the man to his right.

"Are you ready?" he asked. When he had received a nod in confirmation, he approached the door to Russell's office and opened it just enough to view Elizabeth.

"Hey, Bess," he said. "Can I speak to just you first?"

She glanced back at her kids, all standing there in Russell's office, and then nodded.

"Yeah," she agreed. "You guys just...stay here, okay?" she instructed, receiving three silent nods in return. Elizabeth stepped through the door after him and pulled it closed behind her, and then she looked up.

Her heart stumbled in her chest and Elizabeth had suddenly forgotten how to breathe. Standing across from her was her husband, safe and unharmed and alive and there, right in front of her.

"Elizabeth," he said, his voice reaching her ears for the first time in six months, when she'd thought she would never hear him speak her name like that again, and just like that, it no longer mattered that the President was there or that they were in the Oval Office or that she should have maintained a shred of decorum. None of it mattered; all that she cared about was Henry. He had taken one step toward her, a heartbreakingly cautious step, and the next second she had run across the elaborate carpet and launched herself into his arms so fiercely that she was lifted off her feet when he caught her.

"Henry," she sobbed as he immediately wrapped her in his arms. Overwhelmed in every possible way, Elizabeth just clung to him and cried. She was unsure if they were tears of relief or joy or anger or some other mix of the many emotions that coursed through her, but it didn't matter.

"I know, baby. I know. I'm here," he assured her. He held her tightly, never wanting to let go. He had missed her so much; Henry was pretty sure that he hadn't slept more than a couple of hours at a time for the last six months, always dragged to consciousness by the thought of her and their children, grieving and alone halfway across the world. He believed in what he was doing, serving his country, but god, it had hurt to leave her. And now, now that he was back home with her wrapped up in his arms, he just wanted to stay there forever.

Elizabeth found that she actually couldn't breathe, but she was entirely unwilling to remove her fingers from where they were fisted in Henry's shirt or her head from its place buried against Henry's neck where it fit just so perfectly.

"I know it's hard, sweetheart, but I need you to breathe," Henry reminded her softly in her ear. Tears were streaming down his cheeks as well, but he was somewhat more composed than his wife. After all, he had known she was safe the whole time. She, meanwhile, had been living a multi-layered nightmare.

"Just breathe, Elizabeth. I've got you, okay? Everything is going to be okay now, baby. Just breathe for me," he begged. Elizabeth fought to catch her breath, and with Henry assuring her that everything was okay, she slowly managed to inhale.

"There you go," Henry said softly. She was still sobbing, though, and her whole body trembled against him.

"Here," he said a few moments later. He pulled back from her, the intention being to move her to the sofa so that she could sit. However, at the loss of contact, Elizabeth lost it.

"No, Henry," she gasped, panic visible on her face, in her eyes, and in the way her fingers clutched his shirt, desperate to keep him in her grasp as a physical reminder that he was there with her.

"Okay, okay," he relented, pulling her close again. "It's okay, sweetheart. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving you, Elizabeth, I'm right here."

"Henry," she whimpered.

"I know, baby," he assured her. His heart was breaking seeing her like this; he just wanted his fierce, funny, sparkling Elizabeth back. But for now, she could have been trying to kill him and he would still be all relief to have her back in his sights.

"The kids," she managed some time later. It had just occurred to her that they were still in Russell's office, and that they didn't know that Henry was here, and suddenly all she could think about was putting her whole family back together.

"Are you ready to let go for a second?" he asked. She hesitated.

"Stay close, okay?" she asked, so quietly that only Henry could hear her. He met her eyes; they had so much to talk about, but not now.

"I'll be right here," he promised, and she nodded.

Conrad, glad to be able to do something, approached the door again and beckoned to the children. Moments later, Henry and Elizabeth watched as their daughters and son cautiously entered the office.

"Dad!"

To Elizabeth's surprise, Jason had lit up at the sight of Henry, and he was the first to collide with Henry's chest. He was followed closely by both of his sisters after a stunned silence that was quickly overrun by all of them talking at once through tears.

"I know," Henry was saying soothingly as he attempted to reach them all at once. "It's okay, guys. It's okay."

"Dad," Stevie sobbed. It was the first time Elizabeth had seen her cry since before Henry's supposed death.

"I've got you," Henry assured her. Jason turned away from Henry just enough to see Elizabeth, and hugged her tightly.

"I'm sorry, Mom," he whispered, and she shook her head.

"No," she replied. "No, Jason, baby, it's okay."

And she realized in that moment as Henry reached out to her and her whole family ended up in a tangled knot of limbs and tears, that it had a long road ahead of them, but for the first time in six months, everything was okay. And for right then, that was more than enough.


	16. Sacred Name

**Prompt: So many people call Elizabeth "Bess"; one day she asks Henry why he never shortened her name.**

Elizabeth was musing.

Her life had been incredibly busy for the majority of the time since she'd become Secretary of State. In fact, some days she barely had time to think about everything that needed her attention, let alone her inner musings. Now, though, she was settled into the warm water of her bath and surrounded by bubbles, and she was very glad to have the time to muse. Elizabeth sighed happily and sank down a little bit further into the water. Her blonde hair was clipped up onto the back of her head and she rested her bare neck against the side of the tub, leaning her head back to take it all in. For the time being, there were no crises that needed her attention. Her husband and kids were downstairs; if she listened closely, she could hear the faint familiar strains of their laughter and conversation, accompanied by the clinking of dishes as they cleaned up after dinner. She smiled slightly to herself; this, after all, was all that Elizabeth had ever really wanted. Just a house full of the people she loved, and a little bit of time in which to muse.

Her thoughts wandered from Jason's latest report card to the horse farm, and then, inexplicably, landed on Isabelle. She and Henry hadn't spoken with her for a while, but she thought she should call her. Yes, she decided, she missed Isabelle. Things had fallen apart, sure, but their friendship shouldn't end just because they couldn't have spy reunion dinners anymore. That was definitely impossible, though; Conrad was the President, and George was dead, and Juliet was in prison. It was just Isabelle and Elizabeth now, or maybe just Isabelle considering that Elizabeth had made it to the situation room. They had joked about that all those years ago at the CIA, eating crappy cafeteria lunches and wearing cheap blazers that didn't fit well.

"Elizabeth is going to be the one who makes it," Juliet had said then, and Isabelle had laughed at the look on Elizabeth's face.

"No, she isn't," Elizabeth had argued as she stabbed her salad with a plastic fork. "Elizabeth has no interest in political hierarchy."

"Ah, come on, Bess," Conrad had teased as he'd walked by their table; Elizabeth and the others hadn't even seen him. His eyes twinkled as he looked down at her. "I think you'd make a hell of a President."

She shook her head at the memory now; funny how things like that worked out. Now, her mind wandered to the nickname she had long-since adjusted to. Bess. She had hated it at first, but she didn't mind it at all now. Coming from Conrad- or even Russell, she realized suddenly- she actually kind of liked it. Much like another nickname of hers; Lizzie. Her mother had used it, sometimes, and Will still did half the time. Her friends at boarding school had used it, too. Now, hardly anyone ever called her Lizzie. Somewhere along the line, it had become mostly just Elizabeth.

The sound of the bathroom door opening made her glance up, pulling her from her musings. She wasn't annoyed though, because Henry stood before her with a warm smile.

"Hi, babe," he said, and suddenly it occurred to her; Henry had never once called her anything but Elizabeth, save for various pet names.

"Why did you never call me Bess?" she asked him. Henry's nose crinkled in response.

"Why would I do that?" he wondered, as if it was quite a foreign concept to him.

"Well, plenty of people do," she reasoned. Henry shook his head.

"No, babe," he chuckled. "I would never call you that. It just doesn't sound right."

"Well...why not Lizzie, then?" she asked. Henry glanced at her in the mirror as he faced the sink.

"Why would I have called you any nickname?" he asked back. She shrugged at that.

"Well, most people before you had some kind of nickname for me," she replied. "And a fair amount of people since, too. I just wondered why you never did." Henry seemed to think about that for a moment, and then turned to face her.

"I actually did have a reason," he admitted.

"Well, what was it?" she asked, and Henry sighed.

"What?" Elizabeth pressed. She leaned forward slightly, unable to contain her curiosity.

"It's kind of ridiculous," Henry began, "but when you and I first met, I was seriously debating what to do with my life." Elizabeth watched him closely; it always amazed her when she learned new things about her husband. Having been together for so long, she was always surprised when she realized that there was more to learn. "I was considering devoting my life to priesthood," he admitted, and she raised her eyebrows.

"I can see some problems with that," she said, and Henry rolled his eyes.

"Shut up and let me finish," he said, and she smirked but fell silent, watching him expectantly.

"Anyway," he continued, "when I met you, it threw me for a loop. I was enamored with you, as you know, but I didn't know what that meant for my potential life plan."

"I know what it meant," Elizabeth muttered, and Henry laughed.

"Do you want to hear this story or not?" he asked.

"Yes, sorry," she replied. "I'll be quiet."

"I was just sitting in my apartment one night, trying to figure it all out, and thinking about you," he recounted. "And I remembered having heard the meaning of your name in one of my religion classes once. Honestly, now I don't even remember what class it was," he told her. Elizabeth was quiet now; he'd reeled her in, and she was interested in how this story was going to pull together.

"But," he continued, "it came to mind in that moment that the name Elizabeth is a Greek name, which comes from the Hebrew _Elisheba_ , which means 'oath of God'. It has Biblical roots in Elizabeth, the mother of John the Baptist." Henry shrugged his shoulders. "Something about that spoke to me," he admitted. "I felt like it was what I needed to be pushed in the right direction. That direction was you, and after that I was all in. Never looked back." He smiled slightly at her from across the bathroom.

"And that's why I never wanted to call you anything but Elizabeth. Because Elizabeth is sacred to me. And so are you."

Elizabeth stared at him. Her heart fluttered in her chest at his words, and she marveled at how he still managed to do that to her.

"Wow," she breathed. "Well that was deeper than I expected it to be." Henry laughed, pushing off the bathroom counter to step across the floor and close to her. He leaned in and pressed a kiss against the top of her head and she smiled slightly. He knelt next t the bathtub and looked up at her. Adoration shone in his hazel eyes as they met her gaze, and Elizabeth wondered to herself how she had ever gotten so lucky.

"I love you, Elizabeth," he whispered, low and reverent. _Sacred._

That, Elizabeth mused, was the perfect word to describe everything that she'd had with Henry.

"I love you too," she said softly, and then she smiled at him.

"Where are the kids?" she asked. Henry glanced over his shoulder and then back at her.

"They scattered," he replied. "Why?"

"Well…" she hedged, leaning forward against the side of the tub, "I was just thinking maybe we could heat this bath up again."

Her blue eyes flashed at him under the batting of delicate lashes, and Henry was a goner. He smiled and leaned in, capturing her lips in a sweet kiss.

"I like the way you think," he whispered, and a few minutes later as he sank under the warm water with her, he was thinking that sacred was quite the only word for it.


	17. Glasses

**Prompt: Elizabeth is thinking of switching to contacts, but Henry loves her in glasses.**

Elizabeth sighed just a little too heavily as she pulled her glasses off of her face and tossed them unceremoniously on the bed. Henry looked over the frames of his own glasses at her as she flopped down on the bed. He couldn't help but smile slightly at the dramatic antics.

"Something bothering you?" he asked lightly, and she shot him a look. He smiled knowingly, closing his file folder and setting it aside.

"What is it?" he asked, and she picked up her glasses again before silently tossing them just a little more forcefully back on to the bed. He raised his eyebrows at her theatrics.

"Something wrong with your glasses?" he asked mildly, and she nodded, leaning back against her pile of pillows.

"Yes," she said. "I hate them."

"Since when?" he laughed.

"Since they've been getting in my way," Elizabeth retorted. She sighed. "I've been thinking of getting contacts," she continued. "That way I won't always have to be fumbling around for my glasses and missing bits and pieces of things and losing them all the time."

"I don't see anything wrong with misplacing them now and then," Henry replied evasively. Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at him, immediately put on guard by his tone of voice.

"What?" she asked. He shrugged.

"I mean, it happens," he said. "Lots of people manage just fine with glasses, myself included."

"Well, yeah…" Elizabeth said. "But I don't know, I'm just kind of tired of them."

Henry shrugged noncommittally, not looking at her and suddenly very aware of how intensely she was observing him.

"Okay," she sighed, turning so that she could look at him. "Spill it. What are you on about?"

Henry shrugged again, but at Elizabeth's narrowed eyes, he sighed. He pulled his own glasses off his face as if out of habit and set them down on his bedside table. He turned to his wife, reaching for her discarded frames. He unfolded them and set them ever so gently back on her face before tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"I have to admit," he said softly, his voice taking on a low note, "I'm pretty attached to the glasses."

He was hovering over her, and Elizabeth was just on the verge of losing herself in the way her husband was looking at her when suddenly, a thought occurred to her and she pulled back.

"Oh my god, is it like a librarian thing?" she asked. "Is that why you were always in the library when we were in college?"

Henry laughed, unable to maintain his composure at her question. He collapsed back onto the bed, and Elizabeth couldn't help but laugh as well, if only because Henry was so amused.

"Baby, did you ever consider who else was in the library all the times you saw me there?" he asked.

"What?" she laughed.

"You," Henry said, and Elizabeth felt a rush of warmth spread throughout her body at the way he looked at her.

"So...not like a librarian thing?" she asked. Henry smiled at her as he rolled his eyes playfully.

"No, like an _Elizabeth thing_ ," he whispered against the shell of her ear.

"Does that include, like, that girl who lived on our floor with the red hair, Elizabeth-"

"Stop," Henry laughed, and Elizabeth buried her face in his chest as laughter shook her body.

"Ow," she complained, pulling back and reaching for her glasses. "See?" she said, and grasped at the frames. Henry swatted her hand away gently, and she groaned halfheartedly.

"Let me," he pleaded, and she fell silent, tracking his movements as he lifted her glasses back off of her face and set them aside on her bedside table before he returned his full attention to her and gently kissed her, tugging her bottom lip between his teeth before she deepened the kiss.

When they pulled apart, Henry watched her eyes flutter open and she smiled slightly at him, as if she couldn't quite contain it.

"I like being able to do that," he murmured. "I like your glasses. I like the routine of it."

"You make a strong case, McCord," Elizabeth groaned. Her blue eyes sparkled as she looked up at him, and he was reminded of the girl he'd fallen in love with so long ago.

"But?" he prompted, knowing that there was something more.

"But…" Elizabeth began, trailing off. "I think you might be able to convince me if you-" she paused to kiss him lightly and then smiled, knowing that it would have the same effect that it always had. "-try a little harder," she finished.

"I think I can manage that," Henry said, and a few moments later, Elizabeth had forgotten all about the pair of glasses that were lying innocently beside their bed. Something told Henry that the glasses wouldn't be going anywhere.


	18. Praying

**Prompt:** **One of the kids are placed in an extremely dangerous situation, and they hold onto the necklace (or something of that kind) that they're parents gave them when they were a child, because they told them that no matter how far they were, if they had that on they were always safe.**

 **A/N: I got a prompt on tumblr and decided to set this during the bombing in Montreal that takes place in episode 4.19, but the thing is I'm writing it a week before that episode airs so if you're reading this after the airing of that episode, keep in mind it was written based on pure speculation.**

Jason pushed himself against the wall behind him and closed his eyes. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, fast and irregular. He struggled to catch his breath. Blood rushed in his ears and he squeezed his eyes shut against the ringing in the air. There had been a bomb, he knew that much. That, however, was pretty much all he knew.

He didn't know where Piper was.

He didn't know where his mom was.

He didn't even know where he was.

Fear gripped him in every way; there was screaming somewhere off in the distance, but he couldn't place it. He couldn't tell if it was someone he knew or someone that he didn't, and he couldn't make out what they were saying. It was like the endless ringing in his ears was drowning everything else out, and suddenly Jason was thinking about his mom. In those moments of terror, he remembered with vivid clarity getting lost in the mall.

 _He was four years old, and he'd crawled into a clothing rack. It was interesting to him; he had wondered to himself what was behind the clothes, so when his mom had been distracted dealing with Alison, he had just...slipped away. It was so cozy there on the floor, surrounded by the soft, muted colors of the fabrics, and Jason was so tired from their little excursion. Before he knew it, he had fallen asleep. He'd woken up some time later to the sound of his mother's voice. She was calling his name, over and over, and even at four years old, Jason could tell that something was wrong. She sounded so upset, and Jason didn't like it._

" _Jason!" Elizabeth sobbed. She couldn't find him anywhere; it had been nearly half an hour, the longest half hour of her entire life. He had been right there, until suddenly he wasn't. Elizabeth could normally keep a cool head, but that had long since gone out the window. She was a total wreck._

 _Jason scrambled out from under the clothes and stood up, looking around. He felt a flash of fear: where was his mom? But then he heard her voice again, and moved cautiously around the clothing rack to find her standing nearby._

" _Mama!" he called, and Elizabeth turned, her heart in her throat at the sight of her little boy racing toward her, safe and sound._

" _Jason," she choked as she scooped him up in her arms and held him close._

" _Mama, don't cry," he said, wide hazel eyes meeting her blue ones._

" _Oh, Jace," she sighed, cradling him close._

Now, Jason would give anything to be able to just crawl out from a clothing rack and into his mom's waiting arms. Instead, he was barricaded in this closet, afraid to move, and all he could think about was Elizabeth. She had to be frantic, just like she had been that day at the mall, or even more so. Jason choked back a sob and reached up to the collar of his shirt, fingers clawing at the fabric to reach the thin chain that rested against his skin, so familiar that he barely noticed that it was there. His parents had given him the medallion nearly a decade ago now, and he'd been wearing it for the majority of the intervening years. He didn't think about it very often, but now he remembered vividly the day that his mom and dad had given it to him, explaining that it was meant to signify his safety and their presence with him, no matter what.

He held it tightly in his hand so that the metal was pressed into the skin of his palm. He kept his eyes tightly closed. He was praying that his mom was okay, that Piper was safe, that no one got hurt, that someone would just find him here in this closet and take him back to Elizabeth. Jason wanted to see his sisters again, and he wanted to hug his dad, and he wanted to go to college and make his parents proud of him. There was just so much outside the door of that closet, and Jason sat there in the corner, tears streaming down his face, praying as he clutched the saint whose name he couldn't remember, that he would get the chance to see any of it.

And then, after what could have been minutes or hours, it was over. The door was open and familiar DS Agents were talking to him, pulling him to his feet, checking him over for injuries.

"Where's my mom?" he heard himself ask, as if he'd been inhabited by someone else entirely.

"We're going to take you to her right now," came the reassuring answer, and a moment later, his necklace still clutched in his fingers, he was brought into a room. He looked up and met his mother's worried gaze. She turned toward him and he broke free of the DS Agents, meeting Elizabeth halfway between them. Her arms were around him in an instant, and before Jason could even think, he was sobbing against her shoulder. Elizabeth was crying, too, as she held her son tightly.

"Jason," she breathed. "Okay, baby, you're okay. You're safe now Jace, it's okay."

"Mom," he sobbed.

"I'm right here. Everything is okay, baby. It's alright."

Elizabeth's hands shook as she held him, trying desperately to stem the tears and not think about how this day could have ended.

"I want to go home," Jason whispered against her, and she was reminded forcefully of how young he still was; he may have been taller than her now, but Jason was still a kid, and to her, just a baby.

"Oh, sweetheart," she breathed, pulling him a little bit tighter. "We're gonna go home, okay? It's going to be alright."

"I just want to see Dad and- Stevie and Alison," he said, and Elizabeth ran her hand along the back of his head, the way she had when she had cradled him on her hip as a toddler.

"I know, baby," she replied softly. "I know. We're going to go home soon, Jace, I promise. Everything's going to be okay."

"Ma'am?" Elizabeth looked up to find Matt holding out her cell phone. "I have Henry on the phone."

"Okay," she said, reaching out for her phone with her other arm still wrapped around a trembling Jason.

"Henry?" she said into the phone.

"Elizabeth?" he sounded worried, and she slammed her eyes closed at the sound. _Hold it together, Elizabeth,_ she told herself. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, Henry, I'm okay."

"You've got Jason?" he asked.

"Yeah, yeah, he's here. We're okay," she assured him. "I'm going to put you on speaker, okay?"

"Okay," he replied, and she pulled the phone away from her ear to press a button that would allow Henry's voice to be heard by her son as well.

"Jason?" he asked.

"Dad," Jason said.

"Hey, Jace, are you okay?" Henry asked.

"Yeah, I'm okay," Jason replied shakily. "Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

Elizabeth took in a breath, eyes cast upward to thank whatever force had kept her family safe.

"I love you, too, Jason," Henry said softly. Elizabeth could hear the emotion in her husband's voice and she felt the same way as Jason; she just wanted to go home.

"I want to come home, Dad," Jason choked.

"I know, bud," Henry said soothingly, easily slipping into the comforting role that he so excelled at. "You're going to be home soon, alright? It's going to be alright."

"Okay," Jason said quietly. Elizabeth pressed a kiss to his head.

"You guys get home safe, okay?" Henry said.

"We will," Elizabeth assured him. "I love you, Henry."

"I love you too, babe. I'll see you both soon, okay?" he said.

"Okay," she agreed, and then he was gone, and Matt was there reaching for her phone again. She gratefully handed it over and turned back to Jason, who was drying tears off of his cheeks.

"Mom?" he said softly.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Are you okay?" he asked. Elizabeth was reminded forcefully of Henry in that moment, with those warm hazel eyes and tender nature.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," she assured him. He nodded.

"Where's Piper?" he asked, and Elizabeth gestured to his girlfriend, sitting safely across the room with one of the DS Agents, looking anxiously in Jason's direction.

"It's okay, baby, I'll be right here," she assured him, and he nodded with one final look at her as he headed across the room. Elizabeth took a deep breath, turning away to look at Blake with a determined gaze.

"Let's go home, Blake."

"Yes, ma'am."


	19. Like Mother, Like Daughter

**Prompt: Stevie always thought she looked exactly like Elizabeth, but when** **she sees a picture of Elizabeth's mother, her heart breaks as she realises just how much she looks like her, and wonders if that was ever painful for her mother.**

Fifteen-year-old Stephanie McCord had always known that she looked like her mother. When she had been a little girl, her favorite Disney movie had been Cinderella, because Cinderella's blonde hair and blue eyes had reminded her of her mom. When she'd told her dad that, he had laughed and said that he liked that about Cinderella too.

"But Stevie," he had added. "Did you know that you and Mama look alike?"

Little Stevie had thought about that for a moment.

"So I look like Cinderella too?" she had asked, and Henry had given her a bright smile.

"That's right," he agreed.

Stevie had adored her mom as a little girl, and lately things had been much more difficult between the two of them, but under the surface she still just wished that she could be everything that Elizabeth was. In fact, if she really thought about, Stevie supposed that was part of why she was so frustrated with her mother as of late. Elizabeth, it seemed, had everything that Stevie felt as if she could never attain. Her mom was beautiful and kind, and she was honorable and gentle. She was an incredible mother and Stevie's dad was so in love with her that it was almost hard to watch. Meanwhile, despite their identical blue eyes and so-similar features and blonde locks of hair, Stevie felt like an ugly duckling next to Elizabeth, who was graceful and classy and effortless. Not to mention that Stevie was pretty sure no one would ever love her the way her dad loved her mom. To top it all off, Elizabeth seemed to charm everyone she ever met, and Stevie found herself wishing that she could be half as enchanting as Elizabeth seemed to be.

On that, a sunny afternoon in the fall, Stevie wandered downstairs to find her mom sitting at the kitchen table in the near-evening sunshine that streamed in from the window. Before her, photographs were spread haphazardly across the surface of the table. She looked up and smiled at Stevie as she entered.

"Hi, sweetheart," she said.

"Hi, Mom," Stevie answered. She leaned over the back of one of the chairs to peer at the photos on the table. Her blue eyes landed on one photograph in particular and she reached for it. Elizabeth watched as her daughter examined the image.

"Who is this?" Stevie asked, her voice giving away nothing.

"That's my mom," Elizabeth replied. Stevie looked down at the photo of the young woman, wearing a blue cotton dress and smiling brightly for the camera. Everything about the image was familiar to Stevie; she could see herself in every aspect of the grandmother that she never got to meet. Glancing up at her mom, she could see the resemblance there as well, and suddenly Stevie felt uncomfortable. She couldn't help but think about how often she'd looked in the mirror and seen Elizabeth in her own features. Now, she saw those same features not only on her mother, but on her grandmother as well, and she knew that Elizabeth must have been seeing it, too. She wondered if her mother had ever been pained by the resemblance between her living daughter and her deceased mother, and the thought made Stevie wish she had never picked up the photo in the first place.

"What's wrong?" Elizabeth asked, always quick to pick up on her children's distress.

"It's nothing," Stevie said, and Elizabeth considered dropping it, but found that she couldn't.

"You sure?" she pressed, and her eldest child sighed.

"Mom," she began, "she looks just like me."

"I know," Elizabeth replied. "What about it?"

"Did it ever bother you?" Stevie asked quickly. She watched her mother closely.

"What do you mean?" Elizabeth asked. Stevie pulled out the chair she'd been leaning on and sat down, taking another look at the photograph.

"I mean…" she began, trying to figure out how to word it. "Was it ever hard for you to look at me? Because I reminded you of her?"

Stevie liked to think that she was growing up, that she was as much an adult as her parents were. But to Elizabeth, Stevie was still just a little girl in so many ways. Now, Elizabeth could see her daughter's vulnerability in the way she glanced at her mom, and Elizabeth's heart ached at her question.

"Oh, Stevie," Elizabeth sighed. She smiled slightly at her teenager, remembering the moments that she'd first held her. It had been pure magic. Looking down into that sweet little face for the first time and feeling the overwhelming love that she had for that tiny human being wash over her had been the most brightest moment of her entire life. Even now, fifteen years after the fact, Elizabeth didn't really have the words to describe it.

"No," she told her daughter now. "Stevie, sweetheart, it could never be hard for me to look at you."

"But she was your mom," Stevie began, "and she died when you were only my age. Don't you miss her?"

She had turned her wide blue eyes on Elizabeth, who wanted nothing more in that moment than to hold Stevie and never, ever let go. Instead, she just reached out and tucked a strand of her fifteen-year-old's blonde hair behind her ear, knowing that the independent teen wouldn't be fond of her doing what she would really like to do.

"Of course I miss her, baby," she replied. "But you're not her."

"Yeah, but-"

"Stevie," Elizabeth interrupted. "You are my whole entire universe. And when you were born, you actually gave me even more of a special gift than you realize; in fact, even more than your brother and sister," she added quietly. Stevie had to admit, that caught her attention.

"What do you mean?" she asked curiously, and Elizabeth smiled slightly.

"You made me a mom, Stevie. And that brought me so much closer to her, too. It helped bring me so much peace about her death, and it let me feel like she was a part of the fabric of my life again, for the first time in a long time."

Stevie was quiet; she hadn't thought about it that way.

"Does that help?" Elizabeth asked softly, and when Stevie looked up at her, she felt as if she were seeing more than just her mother. Wrapped up in Elizabeth's soft blue eyes and familiar features were a whole line of beautiful, fierce, strong women.

Stevie smiled at her and nodded.

"Yeah," she admitted. "Thanks, Mom."

"You want to see the rest of these pictures?" Elizabeth asked, glancing over at her Saturday project of sorting through all the photographs. Stevie nodded, and Elizabeth smiled as she smoothed her hand over Stevie's hair, and then they both looked down at their legacy of mothers and daughters. And right then, Stevie wasn't jealous at all. In fact, right then, she felt like a three year old again, with a princess for a mom.


	20. Voicemail

**Prompt: Henry wakes up in the middle of the night, and the other side of the bed is empty. Then he looks at his phone and finds he has several missed calls from Elizabeth, and he panics.**

Henry rolled over, reaching out for Elizabeth in the darkness of their bedroom. His searching fingers did not meet familiar warm skin, but instead the coolness of uninhabited bedsheets. His eyes snapped open, adjusting to the darkness as he glanced over to Elizabeth's side of the bed. He found it untouched, exactly as it had been when he had slipped into bed earlier. He had expected her to come home late, and he hadn't been worried, especially considering that he had gone to bed pretty early. He'd been tired then, but now he was starting to feel concerned, and it was keeping him wide awake. He glanced over at their adjoining bathroom, finding it dark as well. No sign of his wife, Henry reached for his cell phone, charging on the nightstand beside their bed, and squinted as the screen came to life. There were notifications, but he couldn't see them; not only was the screen too bright, but it was also too blurry. With a sigh, Henry reached for his glasses and slid them onto his face, pushing himself up into a sitting position before he reached for the phone again. Eyes somewhat adjusted to the brightness, he blinked a few times and looked down at the notifications on his screen.

Four missed calls, all from Elizabeth.

Suddenly, Henry was far from sleepy. He looked up to the corner of his phone's screen to check the time, finding that it read 2:46 a.m. Almost three in the morning, and four missed calls from Elizabeth. Henry's chest tightened at the knowledge. He could feel himself already starting to panic, breathing becoming shallow as he threw back the blankets and stepped off of his bed and onto the floor below. He was dialing Elizabeth as he moved through his darkened bedroom toward the hallway. He passed his kids' bedrooms, glad that they were all asleep. He could barely contain his own fear just then, let alone theirs as well. The call went to Elizabeth's voicemail and Henry hung up in frustration. He found himself in the front hallway at the foot of the stairs, pacing back and forth. He could barely breathe; all he could think about was his wife, alone somewhere and needing him. He knew it was somewhat irrational; she was most certainly not alone, wherever she was. She had Diplomatic Security agents following her around at all times; she was never really alone. And whatever had happened to keep her out of the house until almost three in the morning, they would be with her.

Unless….

No. Henry physically shook his head as that thought drifted into his minds. He wouldn't let himself think like that. He couldn't. If he did, he would lose all control and he couldn't afford to do that just then. He pulled out his phone again and scrolled through his contacts list, searching for a name. When he found it, he tapped it and the name "Blake Moran" lit up his screen as he pressed the phone to his ear.

One, two, three, four, five, six rings.

And then; "You've reached the voicemail of Blake-"

Henry hung up before Blake's prerecorded message could play all the way through. He knew whose voicemail he had reached; he didn't need Blake's professional voice to tell him that. He didn't need Blake's professional voice to tell him anything, really, unless it was going to be where Elizabeth was. That, he would very much have liked to know.

Henry tried Elizabeth again, and still got no answer. He tossed the phone on the surface of his desk and pinched the bridge of his nose as he continued to pace back and forth. He wasn't sure how long he could take the not knowing. Time was crawling by, and there was still no sign of her. He was just on the verge of grabbing his keys and going out to search for her himself- Diplomatic Security be damned- when there was a sudden sound and then the door opened before his eyes. Elizabeth stepped through it and Henry suddenly found himself in a mess of emotions. Her cream colored blouse had a splatter of deep crimson blood on her right shoulder and several strands of her blonde hair were also matted with blood at her right temple, which only invited further panic into Henry's array of emotions. However, she was there and she was looking at him with familiar blue eyes, and Henry could count on one hand the number of times he'd been so relieved in his life. Tears were already streaming down his cheeks, a mix of exhaustion and adrenaline and sheer relief at the sight of her. Concern washed over her face at the sight and then she was right in front of him.

"Henry?" she asked softly. "Baby, why are you crying?"

"Elizabeth," he choked, and just like that she was in his arms, wrapping him in a warm, familiar embrace that only seemed to make the tears flow more quickly.

"Hey, hey," she soothed. "It's okay. Henry, breathe. It's alright."

"You're bleeding," he managed, pulling back from her to look at her head and finding that it was sporting several stitches.

"I'm okay," she assured him. In fact, she was much more worried about Henry than she was herself. "Just a minor accident. Tripped and fell, hit my head on the coffee table at the office. Turns out, emergency rooms still don't move fast even if you are the Secretary of State. I- I tried to call you, but I guess you were-"

Henry had begun to sob, and while the rational part of him knew that it was ridiculous- after all, she was fine, here and safe and not lying dead on the street somewhere- he didn't seem to have the ability to stop. Suddenly, all he could think about was Iran, and Baghdad, and every other dangerous place his wife had ever been and the fact that he hadn't answered the phone when she was calling him.

"Woah, okay," Elizabeth said. She moved toward the stairs, guiding him alongside her and settling them both on the third step.

"Henry, breathe," she advised, running her hand over his shoulders, which were shaking with the force of his breakdown.

"I'm so sorry," he choked, looking over at her with a look in his hazel eyes that made her skin crawl. There was such fear and sorrow there, and all she wanted to do was to erase it.

"Oh, Henry," she breathed. "Come here." He curled awkwardly against her there on the steps and she rubbed his back while his fingers buried in her hair at the back of her head.

"It's okay," she assured him. "It's alright. I'm fine, Henry, I'm right here."

"I didn't answer the phone," he managed, and if it hadn't been so heartbreaking, she might have laughed.

"Oh, sweetheart, that's...it's okay. If it had been anything more serious, someone would have come to get you. I only called because I didn't want you to be worried when I was home so late. It's alright."

"Still, I-"

"Henry, did you listen to the voicemail?" she asked abruptly, as it had quite suddenly occurred to her that he must not have.

"Voicemail?" Henry asked slowly.

"Yeah, I left you a voicemail. Saying that I was fine, and not to worry, and letting you know that my phone was dying so that you wouldn't be concerned if you called back and I didn't answer. I...covered all the bases," she said. And she had; when Henry hadn't picked up, she'd tried a couple more times just in case and then she had left a voicemail, letting him know that everything was fine on the off chance that he'd woken up and been worried. What she hadn't accounted for was Henry's panic and its influence on his thought process.

"Oh," he breathed.

"Hey," she said softly, and he looked up, meeting her gaze. "Are you okay?" she asked, and Henry hesitated.

"I'm better now," he admitted, eyes drawn to her cut. He brushed his fingers against it, so lightly that Elizabeth didn't even feel it.

"Are you okay?" he asked, earnest gaze back on hers.

"Yeah," she replied. "I'm okay. Exhausted, but okay." She studied him for a moment.

"I'm sorry that I scared you, babe," she said, but Henry, much more composed now, shook his head.

"It's my own fault for not listening to the voicemail," he replied, a hint of mirth in his voice at the idea that it would have been that easy to save himself all the worrying.

"Come on," Elizabeth said as she stood. "Let's get to bed." She held out her hand to him, and Henry knew that this was something they were going to have to talk about, but not tonight. He silently nodded and took her hand, for the moment just grateful to have her safely back home.

"You tripped and fell?" he asked suddenly, having just processed that and admittedly a little amused that she'd managed to injure herself in her cushy seventh-floor office.

"Shut up," she replied, and Henry smiled as he followed her to bed.


	21. Alternate Reality

**Prompt: Henry has a dream about his life if he and Elizabeth decided not to have children, and he wakes up feeling sick.**

Henry grasped the soft sheets on his and Elizabeth's bed in his fingers. He closed his eyes, taking a slow breath in through his nose and exhaling shakily. His heart was hammering and his stomach was churning. He could barely breathe at the images that were flashing through his mind, and he took a ragged breath as he sat up, trying desperately to hold back tears. Next to him, Elizabeth had already begun to stir, pulled to consciousness by some invisible force of intuition. She'd always been able to do that, to sense when he or, later, one of their children needed her.

Now, she blinked at him sleepily, concern written all over her features.

"Henry?" she mumbled. "What's wrong?"

The sound of her voice, warm and familiar, was the final straw. He closed his eyes, tears suddenly streaming down his cheeks as he took a shuddering breath that had Elizabeth sitting up by his side in an instant.

"Hey, take it easy," she soothed. "You're okay. Just breathe. It's okay."

"Elizabeth," he choked, and she instinctively reached out to him. He all but crumbled against her, and Elizabeth ran a soothing hand up and down his back. She was utterly bewildered by this sudden, middle-of-the-night breakdown, but she hated seeing Henry so upset, and just wanted to do whatever she could to calm him.

"Shh. It's okay," she whispered. "You're okay. I've got you."

He wrapped his fingers in the fabric of her tee shirt, and Elizabeth's chest tightened in response. She wished that she knew what had gotten him so upset; if she knew, maybe she would have been able to calm him down.

Henry, however, was in no state to tell her, at least not yet. He was still sobbing, struggling for breath, completely unraveled in her arms. She held him close, rocking back and forth slightly. He gasped, and she heard her name in the ragged breath.

"I'm right here," she assured him. "I've got you, I'm right here. Everything's okay, baby."

It wasn't the first time she'd been in such a position. Over the course of their nearly-thirty-year marriage, both she and Henry had suffered their fair share of breathtaking, painfully terrifying nightmares and middle-of-the-night breakdowns. However, none of that made it any easier to stomach when they had to see the other in such a state.

Slowly, Henry's breathing evened out a little bit, and the room fell silent as he stopped crying. Elizabeth waited quietly, running what she hoped was a soothing hand up and down his back in the silence.

"Did I ever tell you that I was going to be a priest?" Henry asked suddenly. Elizabeth pulled away to look at him in the half-light. This was news to her, and surprising news at that.

"No," she said slowly. He nodded, still not looking at her.

"But then I met you," he continued in a quiet, hushed tone that greatly unnerved Elizabeth. "And everything changed."

Silence settled over them as Elizabeth took all of that in.

"You're not mad at me for not telling you, right?" Henry asked, and she decided that the hesitant uncertainty in his voice was far more unsettling than the previous tone he'd been using.

"No," she assured him quickly. "No, Henry, of course not." He nodded silently, and Elizabeth hesitated for a moment before she spoke again.

"What was the dream about?" she asked into the darkness, and her husband drew in a shaky breath. She was on the verge of apologizing for bringing it up when his voice stopped her.

"It was...well, at first it was like I was going to become a priest," he said. "But then I met you, and that was the same, but…"

"But?" she prodded gently.

"But we didn't have children," he said, and her first reaction was to be confused as to why that had him so shaken up. Yet, as she sat by his side in their dark bedroom and thought about the three young adults that were all sleeping in their beds along the hallway, she started to understand. The idea of her life without any one of them was faintly sickening, and she could see why Henry would be tortured by the idea that, by some twisted variation on his beliefs, he could have sent their lives into a direction that didn't include Stevie, Alison, or Jason.

"Come on," Elizabeth said decisively, pulling away from him to slip off of the bed on her side under Henry's confused gaze. She stood at the foot of their bed and held out her hand to him invitingly. Henry, though unsure what she was going to show him at nearly four in the morning, stood and took her hand, trusting that whatever endgame Elizabeth had in mind was a beneficial one. She led him down the dark hallway and stopped before their eldest child's bedroom door, which was cracked open. Stevie had always slept with her door slightly open, so that just a little bit of light could get in at night. When she was small, they'd left the hallway light on for her so that she could maximize the light that streamed in. Now, her mother pressed lightly on the door and the strip of light widened, falling on her cream and blue bedspread and illuminating the blonde curls that were spread out across her pillowcase.

"When she was little, she used to tell me that she wanted to marry you," Elizabeth said softly to Henry, whose eyes were locked on his daughter's face.

A moment later, Elizabeth pulled the door back to its original position, and she gently tugged her husband from where he stood to the next door, which stood wide open already. Alison kept her bedroom door closed all day, but as soon as she went to flick her lights off and crawl into bed, the door would be pushed open as wide as it would go, because Alison had always liked to fall asleep to the sounds of her parents talking softly and laughing together.

"She told me once," Elizabeth began as she and Henry looked at their sleeping middle child, curled up in a ball around one of her many pillows, "that you were her hero."

Henry blinked once and a tear found its way down his cheek. Elizabeth moved again, pulling him with her, and they came to stand before Jason's closed bedroom door. Elizabeth turned the knob with a quiet click, and then pushed open the door, flooding their only son's bedroom with faint, but warm, light. Elizabeth squeezed Henry's hand lightly.

"Jason might adore you even more than the girls do," she said softly, and when her husband glanced at her inquisitively, she laughed lightly and shook her head as she gazed lovingly at their son, sleeping with his limbs tangled in the sheets and his navy blue comforter handing mostly off the side of the bed.

"He might not say as much," Elizabeth continued in the soft voice that she knew wouldn't wake her children, "but he does. I see it in the way he looks at you, henry. Like you're his world. You think he's been my kid through and through, but...he thinks the world of you."

Tears were streaming steadily down Henry's cheeks now as he watched Jason sleep. Elizabeth silently closed Jason's door again and looked over at Henry, tender love written all over her face.

"Henry," she said quietly as she reached out to brush her fingers lightly over his cheek and draw his gaze to hers. "You are right where you were always supposed to be," she told him, and there was something striking about the certain, even tone to her voice.

Henry silently reached out and pulled her close, wrapping Elizabeth up in his arms there in the hallway just outside their children's bedrooms. In that moment, a kind of peace settled over him and Henry McCord knew that his wife was right- he was right where he was supposed to be.


	22. Medallion

**Prompt: Elizabeth feels a bit silly, but she gives Henry a St. Christopher medallion before he's deployed, and he returns it to her when he comes back.**

"Henry?"

Elizabeth called out for her husband, never taking her eyes off of the little medal that she held in the palm of her hand. Henry appeared around the doorway of their bedroom, looking in at her curiously.

"What's up?" he asked. She turned in her chair to look at him, and something in her expression must have spoken to him; he seemed to visually soften as he moved toward her.

"You okay?" he inquired as he came to stand next to her. She stood and faced him, biting her lip a little nervously. Elizabeth was more comfortable with Henry than anyone else on the planet, but that wasn't really saying a lot. She'd been closed off for a long time before she even met her husband, and letting anyone in, even someone as kind and gentle as Henry, had been difficult for her. It remained hard for her, especially in moments when she was unsure of herself or her actions. Slowly, she nodded her head.

"I'm okay," she began. She tightened her fingers around the St. Christopher medallion that she held in her hand.

"I have something for you," she began, and Henry nodded encouragingly.

"Okay," he said. "What is it?"

She took a deep breath, pushing aside all the feelings of insecurity and attempting to replace them with the knowledge that if anyone would appreciate a gesture like this, it would be Henry McCord.

She held out her hand to him, unfolding her fingers to reveal the little medallion that rested on the center of her palm. Elizabeth's eyes were trained on him, observing his face with her watchful eyes as he took in the scene. When he reached for the medallion, his hands trembled almost imperceptibly. He took it from her, turned it over twice in his fingers, and then looked up to meet her gaze.

"Elizabeth," he said softly, and the four familiar syllables held more weight than one might have thought.

"I feel a little weird about it," she said, "but I thought you would appreciate it and I'll take whatever I can get if there's even a miniscule chance that it'll keep you safe," she told him sincerely, and he smiled softly at her as he took a single step forward, bringing himself to stand so close to her that he could feel the heat from her skin on his own. He used his free hand to brush through her hair, an action so achingly familiar that Elizabeth had to close her eyes against the wave of emotion that it brought with it.

Soon, he wouldn't be here to brush his hand through her hair anymore, or to press his lips lightly against hers the way he was now.

"I promise I'll come home," he said quietly, as if he could read her mind. Blue eyes opened to meet his, and he could see the plea there in the ocean depths he'd been falling into from the moment they met.

"You can't make a promise like that,Elizabeth whispered. Henry drew her in close to him, and Elizabeth could feel his fist against her back, knowing that it held the little medallion she'd given him.

"I can," he replied. "Because Elizabeth, you are the center of my universe. You," he began, punctuating his words with hungry, slightly desperate kisses, "are everything. If I can't promise to come home to you, then I have nothing."

She met his eyes again, and for the first time it wasn't just her gaze that held pain and fear; it was present in his hazelnut eyes as well, but more than that, they shone with the kind of love Elizabeth had once been certain didn't exist.

"I promise I'll come home," he said again, and for some reason, in that moment, she believed him with her whole heart. She nodded her head and leaned against him, burying her face in the crook of his neck as he held her tight.

"Where'd you get it?" he asked quietly.

"I know people," she mumbled, and Henry couldn't help but laugh. Elizabeth, he had always known, was not particularly religious. To receive a gift like this one meant a lot to him, but to receive it from her meant even more. He had never needed her to believe in anything; he only needed her to be her. But to have this with him meant more to Henry than he thought Elizabeth could possibly grasp. He held it just a little tighter, feeling the edge of the metal press against the flesh of his palm.

"I love you, Elizabeth," he said softly; it was spoken like a prayer, the kind of prayer that even Elizabeth took comfort in.

"I love you, too," she said. She pulled back slightly and looked up at him, everything about her just bordering on desperation.

"Say it again," she said, and he nodded as he cradled her cheek in his palm.

"I'll come home," he said quietly, and she nodded.

For that moment, the soft promise spoken in the half-light of their home and the little medallion that was hers to give to him, were enough.

Elizabeth was waiting with bated breath. She could barely keep still, watching anxiously as soldiers filled the space around her. All around, there were families reuniting and she stood alone, waiting for her husband. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and she subconsciously spun her wedding band on her finger as she stood on her tip-toes to look over the heads of the crowd, eyes searching for Henry.

Her heart leapt when she spotted him, safe and sound. He'd seen her, too, a wide smile spreading across his face as he did so. He weaved through the crowd, eyes bright and arms open by the time he reached her. She threw herself at him without a second thought, taking what felt like her first deep breath in months. Tears were flowing and she didn't care in the slightest; all she could think about was holding as tightly to Henry as she possibly could.

"Elizabeth," he breathed in her ear, and it sounded to her like wind in the trees on the first pretty day after a long stretch of rain; a beautiful, welcome sound which spoke of freedom and pure, unadulterated joy.

"Henry," she choked. "I'm so glad you're home."

"You and me both, baby," he laughed. It was only when he set her on her feet that she realized he'd picked her up in the first place. She couldn't tear her eyes off of him, hungrily taking in every nuance she could. She'd missed him more than she had the words to express, and now with him standing in front of her all in one piece, Elizabeth couldn't help but stare.

"I have something for you," he murmured, and she watched as he reached into his pocket, fingers reaching for something. A moment later, he held out his hand to her. Resting in his palm was the St. Christopher, shining just as it had the day she'd given it to him in their bedroom.

She smiled at him as she took it with trembling fingers, holding it tightly in her own hand as she wrapped her arms around him again.

"Thank you for coming back," she whispered. Henry nodded against her.

"For you?" he murmured. "Always."


	23. Home With Them

**Prompt: Alison is having a hard time dealing with Lucinda's suicide attempt and she breaks down in her mom's arms one night.**

Elizabeth watched her middle child carefully across the kitchen. Alison was acting fairly normal, but Elizabeth knew better. She knew that child inside and out; in fact, she knew things about Alison that she was pretty sure Alison herself didn't know yet. The near-death of Alison's roommate had been a big thing for their whole family. Elizabeth couldn't even imagine what it must have been like for Lucinda's family. She shivered at the thought, despite the fact that it'd been one she'd had in her head for the majority of the last couple of days. Henry saw her darkened eyes at the thought and leaned in with a reassuring hand on her back, between her shoulder blades. She smiled slightly up at him and he kissed her head.

"She'll be okay," Henry murmured, and Elizabeth nodded her head, wishing that she could believe that as easily as he spoke the words to her.

Later that night, Elizabeth was enjoying some rare down-time in her bed with a book, but she was still worrying about Alison. She knew that her younger daughter was really struggling, but she had always been the most shy of the McCord children, not to mention the most sensitive. In this situation, Elizabeth couldn't help but think that the two didn't make for the best combination. She was grateful that Alison had come home, though. That was at least somewhat reassuring, the knowledge that she knew she couldn't handle it all on her own. As a mother, all Elizabeth had ever wanted to do was protect her children, and moments like this, when she knew she couldn't, had always been the hardest part of parenting for her. No sooner had she thought it, was there a sound from the doorway of the bedroom and Elizabeth looked up to find Alison hovering there, looking tentative.

"Hi, sweetheart," Elizabeth said, quickly setting her book aside. "Are you okay?"

"No," Alison replied, her voice breaking. Elizabeth held out her hand to her daughter, who moved forward quickly so that she was sitting on the bed in front of Elizabeth, who was reminded forcefully of a simpler time, a time in which Alison would come to her looking heartbroken over something small enough that her mother's hugs could make it all go away. Now, there was heartbreak in those soulful brown eyes that Elizabeth knew it was going to take more than a hug to erase. The knowledge made her heart ache in her chest.

"Mom, she could have died," Alison choked, and Elizabeth wrapped her arms around her. Alison buried herself in Elizabeth's embrace; her mom's hug might not be able to fix everything, but it was something. It was familiarity and comfort that Alison desperately needed, and which she knew her mother would always willingly provide. Wrapped in her pajamas and her mom's arms, Alison sobbed against Elizabeth's shoulder. She'd been trying so hard to hold herself together, to convince herself that she could handle this if she just took it day by day.

"I know, baby," Elizabeth murmured softly against her daughter's dark hair. "I know. It's alright."

"It's not, though," Alison cried, and Elizabeth closed her eyes against the onslaught of emotion.

"You're right," she admitted, pulling back a little bit so that she could look at her daughter's face. She met Alison's eyes and nodded her head.

"You're right," she repeated. "It's not alright, not right now. But it will be. Lucinda is safe at home with her parents, getting the help she needs, right?" she said encouragingly. Alison nodded slightly.

"And you," Elizabeth continued with a small, slightly sad smile, "are here with us, getting the help that you need. Dad and I are going to do everything we can to help you get through this, Ali. You know that, right?"

Alison nodded her head and then rested it back against Elizabeth's shoulder. Elizabeth was desperately missing the days when her little artist was small enough that she could gather her whole body up in her arms and make everything okay again, but with Alison snuggled up next to her in a sweatshirt that Elizabeth was quite certain she'd stolen from Jason at some point along the line, she was thinking that the teenage and young adult years weren't so bad, either.

"Sweetheart, I am so proud of you," she said quietly as Alison composed herself. The dark-haired McCord looked up at her mom curiously.

"For what?" she asked.

"You conducted yourself beautifully with Lucinda and her parents," Elizabeth replied. "And when you knew going back to school was going to be too much for you, you came home. That takes so much courage, Ali."

Alison managed a grateful smile as she snuggled a little bit closer to Elizabeth.

"Thanks, Mom," she said softly.

"It's going to be okay, sweetheart," Elizabeth assured her. "I promise."

"Can I stay here for a little bit?" Alison asked timidly, and Elizabeth smiled down at her.

"Of course you can, Noodle. For as long as you'd like."

Alison nodded and Elizabeth watched her eyes flutter closed. An hour later, when Henry came upstairs in search of the two missing members of his family, he found Alison fast asleep against his wife's side, curled against Elizabeth while Elizabeth ran her fingers through Alison's dark hair. Henry smiled at the sight as he approached, leaning over to kiss his wife lightly.

"Hi," he whispered. "Is she okay?"

"I think so," Elizabeth replied. "Or she will be." Henry stepped into the adjoining bathroom and changed quickly into his pajamas before he returned to Elizabeth and Alison. He watched his daughter sleep for a moment, overwhelmed by how grateful he was to have her, and her siblings, in his life. He couldn't imagine who he would be if he and Elizabeth had never created these three beautiful human beings, and frankly, he didn't want to. Alison and her brother and sister had made Henry a better person, alongside their mother. He diverted his attention to her, watching the way she gazed tenderly at their almost-grown-up baby girl, and his heart fluttered in his chest. He settled carefully into the bed next to his daughter and Alison stirred, looking around.

"Dad?" she mumbled, rubbing her eyes tiredly. "Sorry, I'll-" she started to move, but Henry reached out and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"It's okay, Ali," he said softly. "You can stay."

"Are you sure?" she asked hopefully, looking between them.

"Of course, baby," Elizabeth replied.

"We've got you," Henry assured her, and Alison settled back down between her parents.

"I love you guys," she mumbled, and then she was asleep and just for that moment, everything was okay again.


	24. 911

**Prompt: Jason is born in the late summer of 2001, and 9/11 means that Elizabeth is pressured to go back to work before any of them are ready.**

 **Note: To make this fic work, I had to shift the timeline slightly. In canon, Elizabeth was already back at work on 9/11, which we know because she mentioned to Conrad what he told them on that day. For the purpose of this fic, she was not back at work yet, as you'll read.**

Elizabeth sighed, cradling her newborn close to her chest as she swayed gently back and forth. Jason was just barely three weeks old, and he was absolutely perfect. The jury was still out on whether he would end up looking like her or like Henry, but neither of them particularly cared. The arrival of their third little McCord had completed their family, leaving Henry and Elizabeth extremely glad that they'd decided to go for three.

As Jason snuggled against her, Elizabeth closed her eyes and was immediately met with the images that had dominated the news for the past twenty-four hours. The towers, enveloped in smoke and collapsing, the second plane approaching and crashing into the second tower, the Pentagon, firemen and rescue workers, falling bodies, and the endless background of screaming and sirens. She opened her eyes again, focusing on her baby boy's face. He couldn't get enough of being in her arms, and Elizabeth found herself so incredibly torn. She'd gotten the calls, of course; new-mom exhaustion and bliss in equal measure were not enough to keep news like this at bay.

She and Henry had stood in the living room the evening before, Jason wrapped safely in her arms and their daughters playing upstairs, blissfully unaware. Elizabeth wished desperately that she could return to the bliss she'd been ensconced in up until the day before. She wished that she could be as blissfully unaware as her children. Stevie had sensed that something wasn't right, but she and Henry had assured her that everything was okay, and she had believed them. Elizabeth wished that it were that simple for her, too. She had known some of the people they'd lost at the Pentagon, and she couldn't help but wonder if other familiar names would end up on a monument somewhere in the coming days...weeks...months...years. The thought made her heart ache and she was filled with a desire to do something, anything, that she could to help.

Elizabeth continued to hold her baby and thought back to the World Trade Center attack of 1993. She recalled with painfully vivid clarity the way it had felt to receive that news. Elizabeth had spent hours poring over everything they knew; she'd come home late more times than she could even remember, only to lie in bed unable to rest as she thought of the six people who had been killed that day. She had stared at their photos for so long that she could still call up the images before her as easily as those of her own family. It had been a sickening feeling, the knowledge that it was only a matter of time. The bombing at the embassy in Uganda in 1998 had only intensified Elizabeth's feelings of guilt and responsibility, and now, just three years later, she found herself overwhelmed by them. She couldn't help but wonder if, somewhere along the line, she had contributed to the track that had brought them to this oppressively awful, heart wrenching day. If, somehow, she could have done something that might have snowballed into the prevention of this attack, the very thing they'd been fearful of for the past eight years. The first attack and the thousand injuries it had caused, those six deaths….well, they'd known it was only a matter of time. And Elizabeth couldn't help but wonder if she'd been paying more attention to her work, maybe been a little less wrapped up in Henry's return from his deployment or in building their family. If she'd taken less time...

But then, she thought with a sigh as she glanced down at her sweet, innocent, blissfully ignorant baby boy, she would still feel guilty, wouldn't she? She would feel guilty for not getting to know her husband again following his return from Desert Storm. She would feel guilty for leaving her girls. She would feel as guilty for not spending time serving her family as she did now for not spending time serving her country.

Which, of course, brought her right back to the issue at hand.

 _How much longer did she need?_

That was the question that Conrad had posed to her, apologetically. He got it, mostly at least. His son was Stevie's age, after all, only seven. But he had asked nonetheless. They needed all the hands they could get. They could use her.

How much longer did she need?

Glancing up, Elizabeth met Henry's gaze in the dim light of the nursery. There was pain there, pain that she was sure was reflected in her own eyes as well.

"Is he asleep?" Henry asked softly. Elizabeth nodded wordlessly.

"The girls?" she asked.

"Yeah," he confirmed. "Out like a light."

Silently, he came to stand next to her, both of them looking down at the baby boy in Elizabeth's arms.

"Henry," Elizabeth sighed. "I don't know what I'm going to do."

"I know, babe," Henry replied, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "It's an impossible decision."

Tears stung the backs of Elizabeth's eyes as she rested her head on Henry's shoulder. She just wanted to curl up with him and their children and forget. She wanted to hide away from it all, protect her babies from the horror of the unknown. In fact, she wanted to protect them all from that; not only Stevie, Alison, and Jason, but also Henry and even herself. Yet at the same time, she wanted to take a stand. She wanted to stand on the front lines and throw her entire being into the fight for her country. Elizabeth had never felt so torn in her entire life.

"Hey," Henry murmured, noticing the tears streaming down her cheeks. "It's going to be okay, baby. I know it doesn't feel like it right now, but...it's going to be okay. We're gonna figure it out, okay?"

For the first time in her memory, as she stood there with her son sleeping in her arms and Henry's arm around her, Elizabeth wasn't sure she believed him.


	25. Shampoo

**Prompt: Henry's shampoo runs out so he borrows Elizabeth's, but he keeps forgetting; Elizabeth notices after a week and demands he get his own because she misses the smell.**

Henry shut his eyes tight. Just a little bit too tight, a sort of intense response to the water running over his face that had followed him from childhood. He reached blindly for his shampoo, but when his hand closed around the bottle and lifted it, he found that it was empty. It all came back to him then, at the most inopportune of moments; he recalled that after his last shower, he'd been intending to go downstairs and write his shampoo on their list, but he had completely forgotten. He sighed, swiping water off of his face to open his eyes and look around. His gaze landed on Elizabeth's shampoo, sitting mostly full on the shelf beside him. He reached for it with a sigh, just glad to find that there was something he could use. He squeezed a small amount of the pearlescent liquid into his palm and began to work his hands through his hair. Dodging the water, he took a deep breath, pulling in the scent of Elizabeth's lavender and strawberry shampoo. He loved that scent. A creature of habit, Elizabeth had stuck with the same brand for a long time, and the smell could transport Henry to any number of points in their history. It sent him to early mornings with her next to him, hair spread across their pillows, and slow dances with her head tucked against his shoulder and those too-quick hugs in the morning when she would breeze by him on her way out the door with a tantalizing look in her eyes and a brilliant smile that would make him feel weak. Now, he rinsed his hair and turned the water off, Elizabeth's shampoo back exactly where he had found it. He smiled as he dried his hair. He didn't mind smelling like Elizabeth at all. In fact, he kind of liked it. He smiled again to himself as he went about getting ready for the day.

Three showers later, Henry still had not remembered to put his own shampoo on the list. He also may or may not have been intentionally putting off because he liked smelling like Elizabeth. He thought that might have been strange, but he didn't care. It was nice, to be going about his day and occasionally get a stray whiff of what smelled just like Elizabeth. It was like carrying around a little bit of her essence with him all the time, and he enjoyed that. He didn't like being away from her; he often missed the years when they were both working at UVA, when all he had to do to see her was walk down the stairs and across the breezeway to her office from his own. Now, she was at least across town if not across the world. Henry would take whatever he could get if it made him feel closer to her.

Elizabeth had not noticed anything amiss. She'd been going about her life, until she noticed that her shampoo was getting low- lower than she had thought it should be based on how quickly she normally used it. She'd gotten it down to nearly a science, and the amount that remained was not adding up. Upon closer inspection of the issue, she found that not only was she suspiciously lacking in shampoo, but Henry's was conspicuously absent. It didn't take her long to put the pieces together; Henry had run out of shampoo, so he'd been using hers. She shrugged it off, figuring that he'd go back to using his own once they went shopping again. Or, once Henry did, at least.

A couple of days later, shampoo entirely forgotten, Elizabeth snuggled against her husband in their bed. She'd had a rough day, and by about halfway through it, this had been all she could think of; curling up with him, warm embrace around her, closing her eyes, inhaling the familiar scent of...lavender?

She opened her eyes again. That didn't make sense. Then, it all came rushing back to her. She recalled her shampoo and Henry's lack thereof. She pulled back from him and Henry, in a slightly dazed half-asleep manner, glanced over at her as if he was hurt by her distance.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Henry, you have to stop using my shampoo," she replied. He furrowed his eyebrows at her, and she tried not to smile. He was very cute when he was half-asleep.

"Why?" he whined. "I like it."

She shook her head.

"Well, I don't," she answered.

"Why not?"

"Because when I'm snuggling with you, I want to be able to smell you, not myself," she replied in exasperation. Henry smiled slightly at that, remembering why he had liked using her shampoo in the first place. He guessed that it went both ways. Reaching out, he pulled her back into his arms and held her close.

"I promise," he whispered in her ear, "I'll switch back to my shampoo. But only if you promise to let me come do lunch with you more often."

Elizabeth smiled as she snuggled against him.

"I think I can manage that."


	26. Headlines

**Prompt: a reporter catches Elizabeth and Henry in a little disagreement while out in pubic, and turn it into a huge media outbreak; once the headline hits the media, Henry's family is soon contacting them, and to everyone's surprise, it's Maureen that tells Henry he'd be stupid to let her go.**

"Do you think it's true?"

It was Alison who asked, as she and her siblings all looked down at the magazine on the kitchen island of the McCord home, hoping that maybe her siblings had been wondering it too. Stevie scoffed, but Jason stayed silent and Alison knew he had been thinking it as well.

"Of course it's not true," Stevie replied. "Guys, come on." She reached for the magazine and read the headline aloud; "Secretary of State In The Domestic Line of Fire". Stevie's tone was scathing and she read it like a question. She shook her head at them. "It's ridiculous," she declared. "You've seen the two of them, they make out like teenagers."

It was true; their parents didn't seem to be having marital issues as the magazine was suggesting, but the photos certainly looked to be of Henry and Elizabeth arguing.

"What about the pictures?" Jason asked. "Maybe they're just being nice around the house so they don't upset us."

Alison was glad he'd asked, and looked over at her sister to see what Stevie would say. The eldest of them rolled her eyes.

"People argue," she stated. "Just because some photographer caught Mom and Dad at the wrong moment doesn't mean anything. It's tabloid drama that people are stirring up because Mom and Dad are so cute. If they fail, it's worth more than the failures of some couple who are seen arguing on the sidewalk every other day."

"She's right, you know."

All three kids looked up at the sound of their mother's voice. Elizabeth and Henry walked into the kitchen hand in hand, fingers tangled comfortably together, and when Elizabeth stopped and leaned against the counter, Henry settled behind her with his arm around her and his hand resting on her hip. The kids watched them, and Stevie turned to her younger siblings with a facial expression that clearly read, _I told you so._

"So you guys aren't fighting?" Alison asked.

"No, Noodle, we're not fighting," Henry answered. "We had a minor disagreement a couple of days ago," he added, gesturing to the photo in question. "But it was nothing."

"Your sister is right," Elizabeth said. "You shouldn't pay any attention to those stupid articles, guys. Dad and I are fine."

As she spoke, Henry's phone started to ring and he pulled it out of his pocket, looking down at the screen, which read "Maureen". He stifled his groan at the name and answered it, knowing Elizabeth was close enough to hear. The kids began to scatter, and elizabeth offered a smile at Alison for extra reassurance.

"Hey, Maureen," Henry said into the phone. Jason made a face as he left and Elizabeth stifled a laugh while Henry swatted her playfully.

"I've seen the headline," Maureen replied by way of greeting. Elizabeth, close enough to Henry to hear her sister-in-law, rolled her eyes dramatically.

"Nice to speak to you, too, Maureen," Henry replied. "Kids are great, thanks for asking."

"Cut the crap, Henry," his sister told him sternly. "I know you and Elizabeth are headed toward a divorce and I have a few things to say about it." Henry and Elizabeth looked at one another, hesitating for a split second, which turned out to be just long enough to give Maureen the steam she needed.

"You are an idiot," Maureen declared, and Henry shot his wife a confused look. Elizabeth just shrugged.

"What?" Henry asked.

"I can't believe I even have to tell you this," Maureen sighed. "Elizabeth is the best thing that ever happened to you. We all thought you knew that, but apparently you're not as smart as you seem, Dr. McCord."

"Maureen-" Henry began, glancing at Elizabeth, who looked just as shocked as he felt.

"I know we all rag on her a lot, but you have got to be some level of stupid to let that woman walk out of your life," Maureen continued.

 _What?_ Elizabeth mouthed at Henry, who, looking bewildered, just shrugged his shoulders.

"I- let me get this straight," Henry sighed. "You're telling me that I should stay with Elizabeth?"

"Of course that's what I'm telling you," Maureen answered, as if it should have been obvious.

"Are you on drugs?" Henry asked.

"Henry," Maureen reprimanded. "This is not the time to be making light. Your family is falling apart for God's sake."

"No, it's not," Henry laughed, and for once his big sister fell silent. "Maureen," he began, "were you going to ask me if the rumors were true?"

That got her; she fumbled for words, but Henry laughed.

"Elizabeth and I are fine," he said. "It was a minor disagreement that was caught on camera, and three minutes later it was resolved. We had sex that night."

" _Henry!"_

Elizabeth was doubled over in laughter, and Henry himself couldn't hide the smile on his face at the way he had made her laugh.

"Listen, Maureen, I'm just saying," he continued. "Maybe check your facts before you lay into me, okay?" He grinned. "Although it's good to know you don't actually hate my wife."

"I never said I hated-"

"Goodbye, Maureen," Henry said into the phone in a sing-song voice, and then she was gone and he, too, was laughing as hard as Elizabeth was.

"Did we really have sex that night?" Elizabeth asked a few moments later as she wiped tears from her eyes and tried to collect herself.

"I have no idea," Henry admitted, and that set her off again. As the three McCord kids hovered on the stairwell, Stevie shook her head at her siblings.

"Told you," she shrugged.


	27. I Know

**Prompt: After listening to Harriman speak about the love of his life, all Elizabeth wants to do is hug Henry.**

 **Similar to the story I previously posted, "Evening", this is set immediately following the end of 4.16, "My Funny Valentine"**

Elizabeth waited until Special Envoy Harriman had vacated her office before she took a shuddering breath and blinked before swiping at the tears that had been threatening to fall as she'd listened to Peter talk about the woman he'd lost twenty years earlier. She sighed, attempting to compose herself before Blake's inevitable knock.

All she could think of was Henry; he had been on her mind already, and then to sit and listen to Peter talk about Lana...she'd been fine until he'd gotten to the point about her having been the only person to really get him. That had been a sucker punch for the girl who had felt so alone for so long until she'd met Henry McCord and he'd changed everything. He'd turned her world around, and he'd been her touchstone ever since.

Elizabeth couldn't imagine losing Henry. She couldn't imagine going on without him, living her life and moving forward without the love of her life by her side. Henry had been everything to her for so long; he'd been the first person to really see her, and the idea of losing him made her feel sick.

"Ma'am?" She looked up at Blake, hoping that she didn't look like she'd been crying, in spite of the fact that she had.

"Yeah," she answered, and he smiled slightly at her.

"Your motorcade is ready to take you home for the day."

It was a mark of how desperately she wanted to get back to Henry that she didn't argue or insist that she needed a few more minutes. She just nodded, grabbed her coat from Blake's outstretched hand, and headed out of her office without a second thought.

When Elizabeth stepped into the house, her eyes were immediately scanning for Henry. The house was quiet and he was nowhere within her immediate line of sight. She dropped her coat on the chair in the entryway and headed up the stairs to their bedroom, hoping to find him there. She paused outside Jason's open bedroom door, easily masking her surprise at Piper's presence as she hugged her son and greeted the teenage girl.

Moving on to the master bedroom, Elizabeth couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief at the sight of her husband sitting on their bed, one leg tucked underneath him, glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, concentration written into every familiar line of his face. In those few seconds that Elizabeth was able to observe him without him noticing her, she couldn't help but recall the days when she'd been a military wife, waiting at home and fearing every moment that he would never make it back to her. It occurred to her that she might never have known what Henry would look like with greying hair and all of those thin, familiar laugh lines that she loved to trace gentle fingers over. She might never have seen fatherhood on Henry, the tender way he had loved their children for more than twenty years now. They could have missed out on so much.

Henry glanced up as she stepped into the room, and his hazel eyes met hers. His face lit up at the sight of her, and Elizabeth felt as if the breath had been knocked out of her. Henry caught on quickly, his joy at seeing her quickly fading into concern as he set his book aside and stood to meet her in the middle of their bedroom.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly. Elizabeth just moved forward, leaning into him. He wrapped her in his arms immediately, and Elizabeth let out a shaky breath.

"Baby?" he prompted, but his gentle tone just brought a fresh wave of tears and she let out a choked sob that sounded vaguely like his name.

"Okay, okay," Henry soothed, pulling her just a little bit closer to his chest. "It's okay. I'm here." Elizabeth curled her fingers around the fabric of the shirt he was wearing- one of her favorite blue ones- and buried her face into his neck. Henry held her tightly and kissed her head.

"It's okay," Henry hummed against her hair. "I'm right here."

Inexplicably, as he so often did, Henry knew exactly what to say. As her fingertips grasped at his shoulder, Elizabeth found herself crying tears of gratitude as well as sorrow; she had already been given three decades of life with this incredible person, and as terrifying as it was to think of losing him -ever- she found that she was grateful for every second.

"Henry," she breathed.

He pulled back just enough to look at her, finding the sorrow and sadness in her eyes hard to stomach.

"I want you to know something," she said.

"Okay."

"You mean the world to me," she said seriously, and Henry raised his eyebrows at her, a twinge of panic flashing through him at her words.

"Are you okay?" he asked. She nodded.

"Yeah, I just…" she trailed off, reluctantly pulling away from him in favor of sitting on the bench at the foot of the bed. Henry followed her lead, sitting down next to her and continuing to watch her with mild concern.

"I spent some time talking to Pete Harriman today," she began. "He told me about the woman he lost in the bombing. How she loved indie rock and called him her funny valentine and how she was the love of his life, and Henry...all I could think about listening to him talk about her was you."

Henry wrapped his arm around her then, understanding at last what this was all about.

"I was thinking about how awful it must be for him...I don't think I could do twenty years without you, Henry."

"Oh, hey," Henry said, shaking his head as he drew her in closer to him and she rested her head on his shoulder. "You don't have to, Elizabeth. Don't even go there, babe."

"I know I don't express myself that much," she said with a sigh, looking down at her hand and her shining silver wedding ring. "But I just wanted you to know, Henry."

"I do know, honey," Henry assured her. "I've always known. You may not say it, but you do express yourself." He tenderly tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

"I know," he said sincerely.

Elizabeth leaned against him, letting him hold her, and there in the silence of their bedroom, she couldn't help but be selfishly grateful for the beautiful human being by her side.


	28. Red

**Prompt: Henry has never seen Elizabeth wear this color before, but it just might be his favorite thing in the entire world.**

Henry waited at the restaurant, bouncing his leg nervously. He'd gone out with Elizabeth Adams a total of three times before, and he was already absolutely head-over-heels for her. She was not only easily the most intelligent person he'd ever known, but also easily the most gorgeous. She was witty and hilarious, and she kept him constantly on his toes. She could debate anything with him, and Henry couldn't get enough of the mysterious blonde with the prettiest smile he'd ever seen.

As he waited on her to arrive for their fourth date, he found himself more excited than he could ever remember being for a date...except perhaps his last one with Elizabeth. He shook his head, smiling to himself as he thought about the whole ordeal. He'd never been as happy as he'd been since he and Elizabeth had started going out. In fact, he was so lost in thought that he didn't notice the subject of his wandering mind as she approached the table he'd secured for them.

That is, until her voice broke into his thoughts and he looked up, only to have his breath stolen away instantly by the girl standing before him.

She was a little more dressed-up than usual, wearing a dress instead of the typical boyfriend jeans she'd been wearing when they met. The dress, which was just a little low-cut and the hem of which brushed against the skin just above her knees, was a deep, rich red, the color of red velvet cake. Her blonde curls stood out against the material and the dress contrasted the smooth lightness of her skin.

Henry had never seen Elizabeth in red, but he had just decided that he couldn't get enough of it.

"Cat got your tongue, McCord?" Elizabeth teased. Henry laughed, shaking his head as he stood to hug her. Even as she gave him what could easily have been identified as a friendly hug, his heart was hammering against his ribs in some desperate attempt to break free and get to Elizabeth.

If Henry hadn't been a goner before, he certainly was now.

Elizabeth smiled at him as she sat down beside him, and Henry's eye was drawn to the fluttering cap sleeves that adorned her shoulders.

"Okay," Elizabeth laughed. "Are you going to stare at me like that all night?"

Henry could feel his cheeks flushing slightly at being called out, looking down at the surface of the table.

"It's kind of hard not to," he admitted with a glance back up at her. She looked down at her dress and then back at him.

"Why?" she inquired, and Henry could have sworn she was trying to kill him, the way she was looking at him.

"Um," he began, "I- it's just that I've never seen you wear that color before," he said. "It's...nice."

"Nice?" Elizabeth repeated, eyebrows raised.

"Um...well, yes," Henry stuttered. "Among...other things."

Elizabeth couldn't help but laugh. Damn, he was cute. Especially when she got him all flustered with a dress that she'd worn for that exact purpose.

"Okay," she said. "I'll lay off the teasing now, you look like you need a break."

Henry laughed as she took a sip of the water that they waiter had left on the table. She smiled slightly across the table at him, and Henry McCord was thinking that, really, she could wear any color and he would still be speechless every time she walked into a room...but if she wore that one?

Well, that was pretty much just the cherry on top.


	29. First Days

**Prompt: Henry comforts Elizabeth after taking the kids to the first day of school.**

 _Late August, 2000_

"Oh god, Henry, I am so not ready for this," Elizabeth said quietly as she bounced baby Alison in her arms. Henry smiled just a little bit sadly as they both looked over at their older daughter, sitting at the kitchen table and eating her Cheerios. Stevie looked entirely unconcerned with the fact that she was starting her first day of kindergarten, but her parents were quite a different story.

"I know, babe," Henry replied, running his hand along Elizabeth's back, both to comfort her and himself. "Me neither," he admitted, and Elizabeth glanced over at him.

"How are we going to do this?" she asked quietly. "How are we just going to leave her there with those people, and without us, and...just all by herself?"

"She's not going to be all by herself," Henry replied, though he too sounded uncertain. "We met her teacher, babe, she was fantastic. Stevie's going to be fine, and it's only a half day today."

"Only a half day, right," Elizabeth muttered. "That doesn't really help," she added, glancing over at Henry. Henry shook his head.

"No," he sighed. "It really doesn't, does it?"

The truth was that Henry, too, was having a really hard time with the idea of sending their little girl to kindergarten. Stevie may have been ready, but Henry and Elizabeth couldn't have been less so. They both had trouble seeing her as anything but a seemingly fragile and impossibly tiny newborn, their biggest and most precious of responsibilities all wrapped up into a little warm body with wisps of blonde hair and her mother's beautiful eyes. The idea of her going to school was somehow different than the babysitters they'd left her with occasionally or even the three-hour preschool program they had enrolled her in the year before. Something about this felt so much more monumental, and neither of them had the ability to convince the other that sending her off to kindergarten was anything less than a really big deal.

"We need to get going," Henry said reluctantly with a glance at his watch. Elizabeth drew in a breath and nodded.

"Let's go," she sighed.

Outside Stevie's kindergarten classroom, surrounded by brand-new students in various states of excitement and terror, Elizabeth courched in front of her little girl, who looked adorable and overexcited with her Disney princess backpack that was almost as big as she was and her little pink lunchbox. Elizabeth smoothed a hand over Stevie's little blue dress and smiled up at her daughter through her own fear, hiding it all behind a smile that she hoped would be enough to fool her daughter in spite of the certain knowledge that it wasn't going to fool her husband.

"Are you ready to go in, baby?" she asked, and Stevie nodded excitedly with a glance past Elizabeth at the classroom.

"Yeah," she answered. "I remember where to sit."

They'd been over that at orientation earlier in the week. Now, she seemed far more prepared than Elizabeth selfishly wished she were. Stevie going off to kindergarten was enough; a little bit of dependence might not have been so bad. She shook that off and nodded.

"We'll be back to get you at lunchtime okay, sweetheart?" Henry asked from where he stood holding little Alison behind his wife. Stevie looked up at him and nodded, looking entirely unconcerned.

"Okay, Daddy," she agreed readily. She wrapped her arms around Elizabeth and Elizabeth fought back tears.

"Love you, Mama," Stevie recited, easily slipping back into the routine they'd developed when Stevie had been in preschool.

"Love you too, sweet girl," Elizabeth said softly. And then she was taking her younger daughter from Henry so that her husband could kneel before Stevie in her place.

"Have a good day, honey," he said, and Stevie just nodded happily as she hugged Henry. The next thing they knew, she was bounding off into the classroom, leaving her parents and baby sister in the hallway.

"Okay, let's go," Henry said. Elizabeth sighed.

"Do we have to?" she asked in a small voice.

"Baby, come on," Henry begged. "If you keep looking at me like that I'm going to break and we'll end up sitting in the bushes all morning."

"If we didn't have the baby, I would," Elizabeth admitted as she reluctantly followed him one, two, three steps away from the doorway of the classroom with a look back.

"Come on, she'll be fine," Henry said, and he had to admit that he was convincing himself as much as Elizabeth.

 _Late August, 2004_

"Mama, I don't want to," Alison said earnestly. Elizabeth remembered the heart wrenching sobs that had wracked her own body four years earlier when they'd sent Stevie off on her first day of kindergarten, right after they had reached the parking lot. Somehow, she thought that this one might be even worse. Unlike her big sister, little Alison was not very thrilled with the idea of starting kindergarten. Henry had taken Jason with him to walk Stevie to her third-grade classroom, but he would be back soon and Elizabeth still had not convinced their younger daughter to go into her classroom.

"Baby, I promise you it's going to be fine," Elizabeth tried. "Daddy and I will be back to get you so soon you won't even notice we're gone."

It wasn't entirely true and she knew it; while Elizabeth did not typically advocate lying to her children, she was desperate. The clock ticked by, marking the time before the bell would ring.

"No," Alison answered, shaking her head. "No, I want to go home with you and Daddy and Jason."

Elizabeth sighed.

"Sweetie, remember how much fun you had at preschool?" she asked encouragingly. Alison nodded hesitantly, and Elizabeth was hopeful that maybe she was starting to get through to her middle child.

She looked up and saw Henry, Jason in his arms, walking back toward them down the school hallway. He read her expression in an instant and knelt next to his wife. Jason squirmed but Henry expertly distracted him and turned his attention back to Alison.

"Hey Noodle," he said. "What's wrong?"

"I'm too scared," Alison admitted in a tiny voice.

"Oh, sweetie, there's nothing to be scared of," Henry assured her in that soothing, comforting voice that all of the kids and Elizabeth herself loved.

"Are you sure?" she asked timidly. Henry smiled at her and reached out to run his hand over her hair, smoothing it lightly.

"I'm sure," he assured her. "Trust me, baby, it's just like preschool except that you get to make new friends. And remember? We just met your teacher and you loved her, right?"

Alison nodded as if she were reluctant to admit that her dad was right.

"How about if Mama walks you in?" Henry asked. "Would that make you feel better?"

Alison nodded and looked back at Elizabeth, who smiled and took her hand.

"Bye, Daddy," Alison said, the sad shakiness to her voice shredding at Henry's heart. He hid it behind a smile, though, and hugged her.

"Bye, sweetheart. Say bye-bye, Jace!"

Jason's parroted "bye-bye" and the wave he directed at his sister brought a small smile to her face and then she was gone, walking alongside Elizabeth, who, when she returned a few minutes later, had tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Oh, baby," Henry sighed, reaching out to wrap his free arm around her right there in the school hallway.

"Tell me she's going to be okay," Elizabeth said softly.

"She's going to be fine, sweetheart, I promise," he said softly.

"Mama, why you're crying?" Jason asked inquisitively, sweet toddler hands reaching out to her cheeks. She chuckled, taking him from her husband's arms into her own and thanking god she still had one of her babies at home with her.

"I'm just gonna miss Ali," she replied. "Don't worry, baby."

Jason tilted his head and smiled at her.

"Cheer up!" he said, a phrase he'd picked up from Stevie. Elizabeth laughed and Henry smiled at his son, glad to see Elizabeth was okay.

"Come on," he said. "Let's go kill some time before we have to get Ali."

 _Late August, 2006_

Jason was standing in the kindergarten hallway outside his new teacher's classroom. He looked so cute in his new school clothes and Thomas the Tank Engine backpack, with his brown hair combed and looking back at his parents.

"You okay, baby?" Elizabeth asked, finding that she half-hoped he would cry and beg to stay with her. She pushed that thought aside; of course she wanted Jason to do well in kindergarten and crying wouldn't be a great start. However, she couldn't help but think about her empty house and the knowledge that this was the very last time she would get to this. This was it. Her last first day of kindergarten as a mom.

"Yeah," Jason replied. He glanced hesitantly at the classroom and then back to Henry and Elizabeth.

"One more hug before you go?" Henry asked, and Jason came rushing back to them. They both hugged him, and Elizabeth had to remind herself to let go.

"You're coming back?" Jason asked, sounding just a little bit uncertain as he looked between them.

"Of course, buddy," Henry assured him. "We'll be back to get you at lunch, okay? Promise."

He looked to Elizabeth.

"Pinky promise?" he asked seriously, and she smiled at him, holding out her pinky finger to link it with his.

"Pinky promise," she repeated, and Jason nodded, her words enough to send him into his classroom where the teacher was waiting. Elizabeth and Henry stood side by side in the hallway and Henry wrapped his arm around her.

"You okay?"

"Not by a long shot," Elizabeth breathed.

Henry turned his head and pressed a kiss against her hair.

"This is the first time we've done this without another baby to take care of afterward," she said quietly.

"I know," he replied. He looked down at her and smiled slightly.

"You want to go sit in the parking lot until 11:30?" he asked. She glanced over at him.

"Seriously?" she asked.

"Don't pretend you don't want to," he said, and she couldn't help but laugh.

"Yeah, let's go," she agreed.

Hand in hand, they walked out of the school and Henry looked over at her with a small smile.

"Aren't you glad we decided to go for three?"


	30. Unexpected Injury

**Prompt: Henry injures himself putting in their new floor, and Elizabeth's reaction is slightly out of proportion- but she thought she wouldn't have to worry about him now that he was home for good.**

 **This was written during the time when Henry was actually not doing anything and had quit his job with SAD.**

Elizabeth sighed, leaning back against the back of the couch in the den. She let her eyes flutter closed and breathed in the comforting scent of home. Work had been so demanding lately; she'd missed having evenings at home with her family, especially knowing that it could very easily be the last time their nest was full.

And full it was. Not only were the three McCord kids home these days, but so was their father. Since quitting his position as the leader of the Special Activities Division, Henry had certainly been finding ways to fill his time. She had to admit, she was glad he was suddenly so driven to fix the basement floor, but at the same time she had begun to wonder where he was headed next. She secretly harbored a hope that he would return to teaching; he was so good at it, and the bonus was that she worried about him marginally less when he was lecturing passionately on Aquinas than when he was running top-secret ops for the United States Government. His announcement of his resignation from SAD had, admittedly, brought Elizabeth great relief. Her stomach had been in knots over Henry's safety for years, only compounded by each near-miss and injury he suffered. It felt nice to be able to breathe for once, and focus her worrying on the three young adults that she was responsible for and the diplomatic issues that she was tasked with each day.

If you asked her, keeping the world at smoldering and attempting to make sure her kids weren't blowing up their own lives was quite enough to worry about without adding Henry to the mix.

That was exactly what Elizabeth was thinking about when Jason's voice filtered in through a relaxed haze and her eyes snapped open.

"Mom!"

He was calling her from the doorway to the basement and he sounded panicked. She was off the couch in seconds, hearing Henry's voice behind Jason but not registering what he was saying.

"Jace, you okay?" she asked.

"It's not me, it's Dad," he answered quickly and Elizabeth's heart began to race as she brushed past her son, taking the steps two at a time to get to Henry, her breath catching in her throat as she reached him. He was kneeling on the floor, and there was a gash on his temple. Blood streamed from the cut down the side of his face, and Elizabeth could barely breathe at the sight of it.

"Henry, oh my god," she gasped, kneeling next to him. "Are you okay? Can you hear me? Is your vision blurry at all? Do we need to call 911?" She turned frantically to Jason, who was lingering on the stairs watching her with wide eyes.

"Jason," she began, already breathing heavily and suddenly having lost all sense of calm.

"Woah, woah, woah," Henry interrupted, looking between his oddly behaving wife and their confused teenage son. "Elizabeth, baby, calm down. Jace, can you just go grab the first aid kit?" Henry requested. Jason nodded and spun on his heel, clearly eager to avoid whatever situation was transpiring with his mother.

Elizabeth had turned back to him, and Henry could see the fear in her eyes. He was pretty sure he understood what was going on, but for the moment he just wanted to calm her down. He reached out, resting his hand gently on her cheek for a moment before it came to rest on the curve of her elbow, thumb brushing reassuringly over her skin.

"Babe, hey," he said softly. "I'm fine. It's just a cut. Everything is okay."

"No, Henry," she replied, pulling her arm out of his grasp. "Everything is not okay." Tears were glistening in her eyes now, threatening to spill over onto her cheeks as she struggled to breathe. "Everything is not okay," she repeated emphatically. "You were supposed to be safe here. You weren't supposed to get hurt anymore, Henry." She was all but sobbing now, and she knew it was ridiculous- she knew it was- but she didn't seem to be able to stop it. Henry watched her, understanding all over his face. He knew why she was upset, and he understood it- possibly more so than she realized.

"Breathe, Elizabeth," he said patiently, reaching out to run his hand over her shoulder in spite of the way she'd just pulled away from him. This time, she didn't. She just let her eyes fall closed, her shoulders shaking as she tried to stop crying. Henry, encouraged by the fact that she wasn't tugging out of his touch, moved closer to her and wrapped his arms around her. The cut on his head wasn't severe; it was still stinging a little bit, but it could wait. In that moment, Elizabeth was more important.

"Baby," he murmured against her blonde hair. She buried herself in his embrace, giving in to the comfort he was attempting to offer her. "It's okay. It's alright."

Jason, meanwhile, had silently returned and Henry looked up to find his son watching them, his expression unreadable. Silent understanding passed between them and Jason set the first aid kit down before he retreated quietly back upstairs. Henry was grateful, and he turned his full attention back to Elizabeth, who was still crying but not quite so intensely as she had been.

Slowly, she pulled back to look at him, avoiding his gaze as she swiped at the tears on her cheeks. He gently reached out, lifting her chin with his finger so that their eyes met. He watched her gaze flicker to the cut on his head and linger there for a moment, breath catching at the sight.

"I'm okay," he said softly, and it brought her eyes back to meet his. She nodded slowly, exhaling shakily. She swallowed hard, turned, and reached for the first aid kid. Comfortable silence settled over them as she carefully cleaned the cut and bandaged it gently. Henry stayed quiet and still while she worked, his eyes tracking her movement when she was in his eyeline. When she was finished, she started to stand, and Henry reached out, a gentle hand on her wrist stopping her. She sank back to her spot on the half-finished basement floor and looked over at him.

"You want to talk about this?" he asked quietly. Elizabeth exhaled forcefully.

"Not really," she replied, but sighed under his gaze and nodded.

"Henry, I just...panicked," she explained. Her eyes were pleading with him to understand as she spoke. "You weren't supposed to get hurt anymore. That was all I could think about. I'd just let my guard down. No joke, I was literally thinking about how I didn't have to worry about you anymore when Jason called for me."

Henry breathed a laugh, reaching out to take her hand with a small, understanding smile.

"Elizabeth, I'm okay," he said.

"I know. It wasn't really about that, not… at the heart of it, anyway. I just was suddenly faced with the realization that I-I can't protect you, Henry. You being a professor or staying at home writing or, hell, putting in the floor...at the end of the day, something could happen to you at any time and it doesn't matter what job you're doing. I just wish I could know you were safe."

"I get that, babe," he assured her. "I do. I worry about you every day. Every minute you're out of my sight."

She sighed, leaning against him, her head on his shoulder.

"That's not ever going to go away, is it?" she whispered. Henry smiled ruefully, pressing a lingering kiss to her head.

"Maybe when we're locked in a nursing home together someday," he replied, and she shook her head, leaning back to rest her head against the curve of his shoulder and look up at him with a soft smile.

"I'm going to love that," she said. "In, like, a really, really long time."

"So long," Henry agreed. "But I'm going to love it, too."

His head was going to be throbbing the next morning, and they had Jason to deal with, but in that moment, with his wife in his arms on their half-completed new basement floor and his own blood drying on his dirty sweatshirt, Henry McCord honestly couldn't imagine wanting to be anywhere else.


	31. Clothes

**Prompt: Elizabeth wears Henry's clothes for the first time**

Henry awoke knowing that something was wrong, but not knowing what. He blinked against the pull of sleep, glancing around at his dark bedroom. It took him only seconds to notice what was missing; Elizabeth. She had been sleeping next to him when he'd drifted off, her warm, naked body pressed against his own. Now, the covers were thrown back and she was nowhere to be seen. He sat up, looking around, and found a faint light emanating from around the bathroom door, which was almost completely closed, but not quite. Henry, driven by instinct, slipped from his side of the bed they'd been sharing before, and padded over the carpet to the bathroom. He pushed open the door slightly and the sight before him tugged at his heart.

Elizabeth was shivering on the bathroom floor, skin pale and blonde hair stuck to her forehead with sweat, clearly sick.

"Elizabeth, baby?" he asked softly, voice still gravelly with sleep. She jumped slightly and looked back at him.

"Henry," she breathed, suddenly looking uncomfortable. "I'm so sorry, did I wake you?" she asked, starting to stand and swaying on her feet as she did so.

"Hey, hey," Henry soothed, moving forward to catch her by her elbow. "Slow down," he coaxed. "It's alright; take it easy."

The movement had been too much for her; seconds later, she was kneeling in front of the toilet again. Henry gathered her blonde locks of hair into one hand, and the other came to rest on her back. When she leaned back a few moments later, she was avoiding his gaze.

"You okay?" he asked softly. She continued to stare at the floor.

"I'm sorry," she breathed.

"Oh, sweetheart, what are you sorry for?" he asked. "It's not your fault you're sick, Elizabeth."

Henry and Elizabeth hadn't been dating for a very long time, but Henry was pretty crazy about her nonetheless. She was guarded, but only sometimes. There were moments when her insecurity got the best of her, like now, but most of the time she was a font of information and energy, not to mention the most beautiful girl he'd ever known. Now, he noticed with a frown that she was covered in goosebumps, the hair on her arms standing on end in reaction to the cold air of his bathroom on her bare skin.

"Here," he murmured. "Let me get you something to wear, okay?"

"I don't have anything comfortable," she replied weakly. Henry couldn't help but chuckle lightly as he stepped away from her and into the bedroom to gather a pair of his drawstring sweatpants and one of his ROTC tee shirts, bringing them with him back into the bathroom.

"I know," he told her. "That's why I'm giving you these to wear. You look like you're freezing."

"Are you sure?" she asked softly.

"Of course," he replied easily. "You feel like you can stand?"

Elizabeth nodded slowly and Henry reached out a hand to her. She took it with a minimal amount of hesitation, and Henry slowly helped her up, steadying her with his hands on her elbows as she got to her feet.

"You okay?" he asked quietly. She nodded slightly and he watched her carefully as she slipped into his sweatpants, keeping an eye on her in case she got dizzy or felt sick again. She moved slowly and kept the nausea at bay, allowing Henry to then slip his too-big tee shirt over her head. It hung loosely on her slender form, one shoulder slipping off. Henry leaned in and pressed his lips to her bare shoulder and Elizabeth couldn't help the tiny smile that graced her features in response.

"Okay, come on," Henry murmured. "Let's get you to bed."

Elizabeth's glance at the suddenly daunting distance between the bathroom and the bed told him everything.

"I've got you," Henry murmured, and he wrapped his arm around her. "We'll go slowly, okay?"

She nodded wordlessly, and soon they had reached the bed. The side he had been sleeping on was closer, so he settled her there and brushed a hand through her hair before he took what had been her side of the bed. He settled himself in behind her and she leaned back against him, allowing him to wrap her in his arms. A stray tear slipped from her eye and landed lightly on the pillow.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Henry asked, the sincere concern in his voice bringing more tears to her eyes. "Baby, why are you crying? Are you in pain?"

She shook her head, squeezing his hand lightly.

"I'm okay," she breathed.

"Then...why the tears? Talk to me," he urged.

"You're taking care of me," Elizabeth whispered. "That's why I'm crying, Henry. Because you're taking care of me."

"I...I don't understand, babe."

Elizabeth took a shuddering breath, slowly rolling over so that she could bury herself into his chest, her face hidden in the crook of his neck.

"It's been years since there was anyone to take care of me," she admitted. Henry would have sworn his heart was shattering in his chest at her words. He held her closer to him in response, closing his eyes as he pressed his lips against her hair.

"Oh, Elizabeth," he sighed. He pulled back slightly, brushing at her tears with his fingertips as he met her eyes in the half-light from the bathroom.

"You," he began, "are always going to be taken care of with me. Okay?"

Fresh tears filled her eyes at his words and he just tucked her back into his embrace, running a soothing hand up and down her back as she cried softly.

"Shh," he soothed. "You're okay. I've got you; I'm right here."

That night, as an ill Elizabeth Adams cried herself to sleep in his arms, Henry promised himself that she would never weather the storm alone again. Not if he could help it.


	32. Ice Cream Solutions

**Prompt: I was asked to write something off of last week's episode to show what happens after Stevie and Jason's sweet little moment at the end. (and can we just talk about how cute that was and how great Wallis and Evan are?! And how happy I am that Stevie's back!) Moving on.**

Stevie smiled slightly as her brokenhearted little brother settled his head against her shoulder. Stevie had never been as close to Jason as her sister was. They were close, sure, probably closer than a lot of siblings. But there had been times growing up when Stevie had been a little bit jealous of the sibling bond that Alison and Jason seemed to have formed. They fought like cats and dogs, but there had been more than one occasion on which Stevie couldn't help feeling left out of their connection. Now, to have her bratty teenage brother coming to her for this somehow felt like a gift. She had been so thrilled to get a little brother when Jason was born; she loved her little sister, but something about having a brother had just made her so excited. Her parents had chalked it up to the fact that she'd been older when Jason was born, able to appreciate getting a sibling more that she had been when they'd had Alison. Stevie didn't think so, though, at least not entirely. Now, she wrapped her arm around her brother's shoulders. Stevie was no stranger to heartbreak, but Jason was. She hated that her brother had to deal with it; she knew how hard it was, not to mention how much he had liked Piper.

Well, she thought he had. It seemed to depend on the day.

Either way, he was certainly torn apart now, and Stevie was racking her brains, trying to remember what her mom had done the first time she'd had a breakup. Then, quite suddenly, it came to her and Stevie wondered how she hadn't thought of it before. Ice cream. She pulled abruptly away from Jason, who let his head drop onto the back of the couch as he looked across the kitchen after her.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Helping you," she replied as she bent to look in the freezer; if Stevie knew her mom, and she did, there would definitely be ice cream in there somewhere.

"Aha," she said, triumphantly holding up the pint of chocolate that she'd unearthed behind a thin ruse of frozen peas. For a spy, she thought, her mom was awful at hiding things. She reached into the dishwasher and pulled out two spoons before she headed back to the couch. She climbed over the side, popped the lid off the ice cream, and held out a spoon to her brother.

"Is that really your solution?" he asked, looking skeptically at the chocolate frozen treat in his sister's hand. Stevie rolled her eyes.

"Which one of us is the one who's been through multiple breakups?" she asked rhetorically. "Trust me," she implored. "It helps."

Jason reached for the spoon and dug it into the ice cream. Stevie waited for him to put it in his mouth before she, too, took a spoonful. She watched her brother's face, and Jason gave nothing away, but when he swallowed, he seemed to think about it for a moment, and then gestured for her to give it back to him. She smiled slightly and held it out for him. He took another bite and she raised her eyebrows at him.

"What did I tell you?" she asked, and Jason shrugged.

"Okay, so maybe it does help," he admitted. "A little."

Stevie shrugged.

"That's all you can do," she admitted. "Just whatever helps a little."

Jason seemed to consider that as he ate another bite of ice cream.

"This seems kind of girly," he admitted. Stevie laughed.

"Oh, and pining over your breakup wasn't?" she asked.

"Shut up," he groaned.

There was a moment of comfortable silence before he spoke again.

"How long does it take, for it to go away?" he asked. Stevie smiled slightly.

"Just...as long as it takes," she replied. "It's a process, Jace. You just gotta be patient with yourself. It's okay to be upset, you know? But it'll get better. Promise."

Jason nodded.

"Give me that," he said, and Stevie laughed as she handed him the ice cream. Just then, there was a noise from the front of the house and Stevie stood, bounding through the house to get to Elizabeth, breezing past a confused Alison and Henry to do so.

"Oh, hi Stevie," she said, looking vaguely surprised at her daughter's appearance.

"Hi, Mom," Stevie replied. "Come with me."

She pulled her aside, watching her mom's bemused look closely.

"Something wrong?" Elizabeth asked.

"Piper broke up with Jason," she said, like ripping off a bandaid. Elizabeth raised her eyebrows.

"She did?" she asked, glancing past Stevie through the house. "Is he okay?"

Stevie exhaled.

"He's eating the chocolate ice cream I found in the freezer," Stevie replied. Elizabeth stared at her.

"You found that?"

Stevie rolled her eyes.

"Focus, Mom," she pleaded. "I just...he's pretty devastated. I wanted you to know, you know, before you go in there and talk to him."

Elizabeth smiled at her eldest, thinking to herself how much Stevie had grown up in the last few years. She'd become so much more mature and Elizabeth was incredibly proud of her.

"Thanks, Stevie," she said, and her daughter smiled.

"You're welcome, but also good luck," she answered, and Elizabeth chuckled lightly before she headed through the house. In the den, she found her son sitting on the couch, miserably eating chocolate ice cream.

"Hey, Jace," she said softly.

"Are you here to lecture me, because I really don't think I can take it," Jason said. Elizabeth shook her head. She sat down next to him on the couch.

"No, no lectures," she replied. "Stevie told me about Piper."

"Well, then you know I'm in enough pain without you and Dad telling me how much I messed up," he said, sounding on the verge of tears. Elizabeth smiled sadly.

"Oh, Jason," she sighed. "Baby, I'm not going to tell you how much you messed up. Not right now. I think you've got that message."

"Piper definitely made sure I got that one," Jason sighed. Elizabeth wrapped her arm around his shoulders.

"I'm so sorry, sweetie," she sighed. "I know how much this hurts."

"I thought-" Jason broke off, shaking his head.

"Thought what?" Elizabeth asked gently. Jason looked over and met her eyes with the hazel ones that he'd gotten from Henry.

"I thought I could make it like you and Dad," Jason said, all in a rush like he was trying to get it out before he could change his mind about saying it. Elizabeth felt her heart melt a little in her chest. _Oh, Jason_. Her sweet boy hadn't really changed that much; from the kid who had thought she had superpowers to the snarky teenager, and through it all he'd had a heart of gold.

"Oh, honey," she sighed, shaking her head as she pulled him in closer and kissed his head. "You're going to have what Dad and I have. Someday. But you can't make it happen, Jace. It doesn't work like that."

Tears sparkled in Jason's eyes.

"I didn't mean to…" he began, trailing off.

"I know," Elizabeth assured him. "I know, Jace. Come here."

And then he was in her arms, trying not to cry, and Elizabeth smiled slightly as she ran her hand through his hair. She hated seeing him upset, but she couldn't help but be grateful that she still had time with her baby, time in which he was young and didn't know what to do and still needed Mom.

"Everything's going to be okay, baby. I promise."

And Jason, with the chocolate ice cream his sister had given him and the hug his mom had him wrapped in, thought that maybe it really would be.


	33. Silent Memories

**Prompt: I've taken a quick break from writing the prompts that you guys have been supplying me with in order to write one from lilacmermaid25's tumblr, which is after all where all of this insanity began- I read those prompts and couldn't help myself. Anyway, the prompt is Elizabeth has amnesia, and when her memories begin to return, she blames herself for something that she and Henry resolved a long time ago. This took a darker turn from what I thought I was writing. Oops.**

Henry watched her from across the kitchen, closely and attentively. Her memory was starting to return after the frightening accident that had left her with amnesia, something that Henry had never imagined would actually happen this side of a movie screen. Then again, that could be said about a large number of the things that had occurred in their lives over the years. Her recovery had been, and continued to be, a slow and steady progression. She knew them all now, had memories of each of them. That was helpful; it made the kids less afraid to be around her, and it made it so much easier for Henry to handle. He would have said the hardest part about the whole process had been doing it all without Elizabeth. The sentence itself didn't make much sense, but he'd felt as if he were handling it without her when she had looked at him for the first time with no love in those familiar ocean eyes. Now, she recalled at least enough of their life together to know that she loved him. That made it all seem doable, at least to Henry. It was still a process though, and he was trying very hard to be attentive to her. The traumas that she was reliving had come to her unexpectedly, and they always seemed to catch her off guard. They'd been through the deaths of her parents, the loneliness of college, the insecurity of their early days. They'd been through their wedding and Henry's deployments, the births of their children and the struggles of their early days of parenthood. She was struggling still, very much so, but she knew the kids and felt her deep love for them, and they were all grateful for that. However, Henry had known what was coming for days, and that evening, with the kids right there, he was proven right.

Elizabeth dropped the glass she was holding, and it shattered as it hit the floor. The kids all jumped, looking cautiously at her, but Henry just closed his eyes briefly. He'd known it was coming, but he wasn't ready to relive this either. He was really dreading going back to this point in their history. Elizabeth's breathing had become shallow, and Henry turned to the kids.

"Guys, I need you to go to your rooms," he said softly, and something about the intensity with which he spoke got through to them. They all nodded quickly, each of them glancing with concern back at Elizabeth as they obediently climbed the stairs to the second floor. Henry approached his wife, resting his hand on her back. She looked over at him with tears in her eyes and he saw all the pain of that awful night reflected there.

"Henry," she choked.

"I know, sweetheart," he assured her. And he did; he knew the heartbreak of losing baby McCord number four as much as she did. They'd spent the last nearly-fifteen years covering it up by reverting back to the jokes about Jason, how they'd debated going for three. Four had never been on the table, until Elizabeth had ended up pregnant when Jason was two and then suddenly it was. And they had been thrilled; surprised and a little overwhelmed, of course, but still so attached to the new life that they were anticipating. They'd speculated over whether it would be a second son to even out the numbers, or another girl to overtake Jason. And then, it had all fallen apart; bloody and terrifying and tragic, the child they never got to meet was taken from them before they had ever even had the chance to tell the kids they were getting a new sibling. They'd decided it was better that way, and hadn't told them about it until years later, when they were all old enough to understand. But this? This reliving of what had probably been the worst night of both of their lives? This, they didn't need to see. Henry was almost certain he knew what Elizabeth was going to say next, and seconds later, he was proven to be exactly right.

"Oh god, it was my fault."

"Elizabeth," Henry began, stepping forward so that he was directly in front of her. "Come here," he coaxed, but she pulled away.

"Elizabeth, this was not your fault," he told her patiently. He'd told her that a million times, until eventually she believed him, at least for the most part. But now, they were both facing that process all over again, and Henry hated that. He hated seeing her blame herself for something that had not been her fault. She'd taken a particularly stressful assignment the day before at work, and no matter how many times the doctors assured her that there was nothing she could have done or not done to prevent this, she still blamed herself.

"It was my fault," she sobbed. "Henry, I ki-" she choked on the word and he reached out to her again. This time, she didn't pull away even though she wanted to.

"Baby, shh," he said softly. "You didn't. I promise you, Elizabeth, you didn't."

"Then why?" she demanded, voice breaking in such a way that Henry had to remind himself to breathe, too. And wasn't that the question he'd been asking himself off and on for the last fifteen years? Why? Why had they lost that little tiny life? Why did they not have four of these beautiful human beings in their lives now? He'd never been able to answer it any more than she had.

"I don't know, honey," he admitted as he held her close against his chest. She tried to pull away, but he held her there. He knew her well enough to know that it was what she needed, no matter how angry and devastated she was. Seconds later, she was pounding her fists against his chest and he stood still, letting her rage against him as she sobbed.

"I know. It's okay. I've got you," he assured her. He hoped the kids had listened to him and gone to their rooms instead of hovering on the staircase as they were sometimes apt to do. The sound of her sobbing and gasping for breath as she relived that night was enough to tear Henry apart. Stray tears worked their way down his cheeks, but still he stayed there, holding her and letting her hit him until he was quite sure he would be bruised the following day. She'd feel bad for that too, but they would deal with that issue when they got to it.

Eventually, after what felt like hours, she collapsed against him and wrapped her fingers in the fabric of his tee shirt, clutching tightly.

"I've got you," he repeated soothingly. Slowly, he lowered them both to the kitchen floor, steering clear of the broken glass, and pulled her close. She curled up in his lap and wept, her tears soaking into his shirt as he cried silently. She trembled in his arms and Henry just held her a little bit tighter.

"I'm so sorry," she breathed.

"Oh, baby, it was not your fault," he said softly. "You didn't do anything wrong, Elizabeth, you were every bit the incredible mother to that baby that you are to Stevie, Alison, and Jason."

"I wasn't," she whispered. "I wasn't because I couldn't-"

"Nobody could, sweetheart," he sighed. "Nobody could. It wasn't you."

"We wanted that baby, Henry," she said, and he nodded.

"We did," he agreed.

"But we said- we had said we were-"

He knew what she was getting at; they hadn't planned on a fourth child. They'd barely planned on a third. And the what if was implied; what if that was why they had lost that fourth baby?

"Elizabeth, honey, look at me," he pleaded, and she looked up to meet his eyes.

"I know you don't remember," he began, brushing his hand over her cheek, "but we've been through this before. We've made it through this once, and we're going to get through it again. I promise."

Elizabeth looked at him, wishing desperately that she could remember it all. Wishing she could remember how they'd dealt with this before. How she'd ever picked herself back up after this.

"I don't know how to do that," she admitted. He nodded, pulling her close to him again.

"It's okay," he said. "We're going to do it together. Just like we always do, and it's going to be okay."

Elizabeth did not respond, but she rested her head against his shoulder and Henry closed his eyes and held her there, each of them wrapped up together in their own silent memories.


	34. Scrabble

**Prompt: Henry brings Elizabeth back to his apartment for the first time, and unlike other guys she's dated, he just wants to play Scrabble.**

Elizabeth was only a little bit nervous as she stood in the hallway and waited for Henry to unlock the door to his apartment. She'd been slightly surprised when he'd invited her home to his apartment the way he had. At the same time, however, she wasn't sure why she'd expected Henry to be that different from the other guys she'd dated. After all, she and Henry had already been on one date more than the number of dates she'd gone on with the last guy she'd dated before going back to his apartment. She supposed it had only been a matter of a time, and she was okay with that. It wasn't as if she wasn't willing to have sex with Henry; in fact, she was more than willing. He was easily the most attractive guy she'd gone out with, in addition to the nicest and the smartest. All in all, he was a real catch, and if their make-out sessions were any indication, tonight was going to be one of the better first nights she'd had with a guy. She supposed there had just been a part of her that hoped for the chivalry, the lack of pressure, all those things she'd seen in the movies and never quite managed to find. Shaking it off, Elizabeth resolved to just enjoy herself tonight and see what happened. Sex wasn't a bad thing, after all, and she had to admit that in spite of her lingering feelings of slight disappointment, she was really looking forward to it.

As she followed him into his apartment for the first time, she looked around. The place was homey and warm, which didn't surprise her. Henry was more sensitive and grown-up than the guys she typically ended up with. He had a large collection of books, arrayed over several shelves, and his furniture was nice, but not new. She didn't mind; in fact, she liked the lived-in feeling that it lent to the place. It was tidy, but not too clean, and she liked it.

"Nice place," she remarked as Henry set his keys down on the counter and reached out to take her coat, which she willingly handed over to him.

"Thanks," he replied, watching as she ambled over to the bookshelves. He smiled slightly; he loved that the books were what had drawn her in immediately. It just confirmed for him- again- that Elizabeth was exactly the kind of girl he wanted in his life. Possibly forever. No, he thought as he looked over at her running her delicate fingers along the spines of his books, taking in each of the titles. Not possibly. Definitely forever. He'd keep that to himself for now, though. He didn't want to scare her off. If he was going to keep her around as long as he wanted to, that was the last thing he wanted to do.

She glanced over at her shoulder at him as he went about flicking on the lamps.

"What are you looking it?" he asked, moving to stand next to her and looking down at the book in her hand. It was his copy of The Metamorphosis.

"Kafka," she replied. Henry nodded.

"Familiar with it?" he asked her, and she shot him a look that clearly read 'are you kidding? Of course'. Henry chuckled at that.

"Forgive me," he intoned, and she rolled her eyes, but it was good-natured. He loved that about her, the way she made no apologies for her sharp wit and intelligence. Henry was pretty sure he could just sit and talk with her all day, every day, for the rest of his life.

"Not one of my favorites, personally," Elizabeth remarked as she replaced the book back where she'd gotten it.

"Nor mine," Henry admitted. "It felt like an important one to have on the shelf." She laughed at that, recalling some of her own collection that had just seemed like they were books she ought to own in spite of the fact that she'd not particularly enjoyed them and wasn't very likely to read them again.

"You know," Henry began, clearing his throat in an attempt to hide his nervousness that did not work at all, "there is a reason that I brought you here tonight."

And there it is, she thought.

"Oh?" she replied, glancing over at him. Henry stuck his hands in his pockets and nodded.

"Bet I can guess," she remarked quietly.

Henry laughed.

"Oh, I bet you can't," he replied. "It's not what you think."

"It's not?" she repeated. She had to admit, she was starting to doubt herself.

"No," Henry replied, shaking his head as he chanced a glance in her direction. "I'll give you a hint," he said. "It involves letters."

That threw her off. Letters? Elizabeth no longer had any clue what was going on, so she went for the offensive.

"Letters?" she repeated. "That could mean a number of things." She started to tick them off on her fingers. "The alphabet, a collection of addresses from one person to another, _writing_ addresses from one person to another…"

Henry smiled slightly.

"You were closer with the first one," he replied, and she racked her brains to try and come up with what that could possibly mean. She was still thinking when Henry approached one of his bookshelves and reached for a box that was resting on top of it, pulling it down with very little effort. When the box was resting in his hands, Elizabeth could glance over and see it very clearly. The sight caused a smile to spread over her face.

Scrabble.

Suddenly, looking up at the slight smile on Henry's face, Elizabeth felt a rush of warm affection. Maybe, she thought, there was more to this than she'd thought.

"Told you it wasn't what you thought," he said.

"Who says this isn't what I thought?" she tossed out as she reached out her hand for the box and sat down on one side of his low coffee table, long legs crossed underneath her. Henry laughed, but said nothing as he sat down across from her.

"Prepare to go down, McCord," she said as she pulled the board from the box. Her blue eyes met his in a challenging stare, and Henry smiled. He had no chance at winning this game, and he knew it, but he didn't care. If he could get her to look at him like that, he'd be willing to lose a million games of Scrabble.


	35. The Pendants

**Prompt:** **Elizabeth (or Henry) explains the significance of her and Henry's matching necklaces to one of the kids**

Stevie leaned her head against her dad's shoulder. It was her first chance to spend time with him since her breakup with Jareth, and it was something that she needed desperately. It had been nice to spend time with her mom, and having her there had been just what Stevie needed. Now, she needed the same thing she had needed every other time she'd had a breakup; her dad. He'd been there through every one of her breakups and this time was no different. He'd taken one look at her and known, and now she was curled up against him on the couch and sighed.

Glancing over, her eyes landed on the necklace that Henry was wearing, two small charms that were very familiar to Stevie resting against his tee shirt. She reached out and wrapped her slender fingers around the chain, and with a glance down, Henry was reminded of a much, much smaller version of his eldest child. He recalled the way that new baby girl, who had seemed so fragile and tiny, had curled against his chest and wrapped her perfect little fingers around that same chain so long before. He couldn't help but smile slightly at the memory, marveling at how that tiny baby had become the beautiful woman who was curled up against his side now.

"What do they mean?" Stevie asked softly, and he followed her gaze to the two small pendants, which were just like the ones his wife often wore on her own chain. None of their children had ever asked that question before. Henry smiled slightly and kissed Stevie's head.

"Your mom and I got them before I was deployed," he replied, reminiscing on what a sad and heartfelt moment that had been, the goodbyes and the way that Elizabeth had wrapped her fingers around the pendants, too, as if she could infuse them with enough love to keep him safe and bring him home again.

"Protect me," Stevie read aloud from the second of the two pendants. Henry nodded.

"Is it about God?" she asked, and Henry considered how to answer that for a moment.

"Sort of," he replied. "It's about divinity, I think. It's about faith. I don't think that necessarily means it's about God. I think the point of the phrase was that we were both trusting whatever forces we believed in to protect us both when we were apart." Stevie silently turned those words over in her head.

"You believe in God," she stated, and Henry just nodded.

"Mom doesn't," she said. Henry nodded again.

"True," he agreed quietly.

"Then...did it mean different things to each of you?" Stevie inquired.

"Not at the core of it," Henry answered. "At the core of it, we both had faith that I was going to come home and we were going to be okay. We had faith that whatever divine thing had brought us together, be it God or fate or happenstance or sheer will or love, would bring us together again when it was all said and done. And that was always enough."

Stevie held the other pendant, the blue enamel heart, in between her thumb and forefinger, and glanced up at her dad.

"What about this one?" she asked, and henry smiled.

"I think that one's self-explanatory," he said, and Stevie smiled.

"We carried each other's hearts with us, no matter the distance," Henry clarified unnecessarily.

Stevie sighed, and it was clear to her dad that she was thinking about something, so he remained quiet, letting her think.

"I just wish that I could have what you and Mom have," she sighed after a moment of silence, and looked over at him with the blue eyes she'd gotten from Elizabeth. Henry, as he had so many times over the course of her life, melted at the sight.

"Oh, sweetheart," he sighed, pulling her close. He wished he could protect her now the way he had when she was still the new baby girl that could lie on his chest over his heart, close enough and tiny enough that he could keep her safe from everything.

"It just seems so unattainable," she said.

"It's not," Henry assured her. "Mom and I have had our fair share of issues over the years, just like any other relationship. It's not unattainable, Stevie, and I really believe you're going to find what Mom and I have."

"How can you be so sure?" she asked, looking up at him again. He smiled slightly and tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

"Because I believe in you," he began, "Because I know what an incredible woman you are, and because I believe in love."

"Is that why you still wear them?" she asked softly. "Because you believe in love?"

"Maybe," Henry shrugged. "That, and because I believe in her," he added softly. Just then, as if on cue, Elizabeth wandered through the kitchen and into the den. Henry leaned his head back to look at her, and Stevie watched his eyes light up at the sight of her mom.

"Hi, babe," he said, voice noticeably different when he addressed Elizabeth. She smiled brightly back at him and leaning in to kiss him, quickly and upside-down, before she pressed her lips to Stevie's forehead.

"Hi," she said to both of them. "What are my people talking about over here?"

"Love," Stevie and Henry chorused in unison. They looked at one another, and Henry laughed as he pulled his daughter close. And right then, Stevie believed in love, too.


	36. Home Is Where The Heart Is

**Prompt: Henry knows that Elizabeth is the one when he realizes he considers home wherever she is.**

Henry had not grown up with money. He didn't have friends with money. He didn't have family with money. He was not familiar with the comfortably well-off lifestyle that his girlfriend of nine months, Elizabeth Adams, had apparently been living her whole life. Truthfully, he'd been surprised to learn that she came from such a well to-do family. She didn't seem like the type; she wore the same pair of boyfriend jeans as often as she could manage it, and he'd teased her about her favorite and most comfortable sweatshirt more than once. She didn't own anything that was flashy, and her overall personality was down to earth and humble. Learning that she'd managed all of that with less than humble beginnings only made Henry admire it about her even more. It showed strength of character, and that was important to Henry.

However, while Elizabeth herself showed no signs of her status, they'd been dating for some time and now, at spring break, she'd invited him to come home with her. It had been a big step for her; he could see it in the way she'd asked, and he wouldn't have dreamed of saying no when it was clearly such an important thing for her. She'd only recently admitted to him that her parents had passed away when she was a teenager, and so for her to be opening up another chapter of her life to him was not something he was going to screw up in any way. He was determined of that. Yet, as they drove along a tree-lined driveway that led to a house which Henry could have fit at least two of his childhood homes in, he had to admit he was intimidated. She'd assured him it wouldn't be a big deal; the aunt that she lived with wasn't even going to be there, and her brother would be leaving within the first couple of days for a skiing trip with his friends. They would largely be spending the week the same way they would have at UVA, just in a different setting. However, the setting was exactly what was unnerving Henry. He had never been exposed to anything quite like this, and he couldn't help but wonder in spite of himself what his dad would have to say about the whole thing.

"Here we are," Elizabeth said. "We'll unpack later; let's go see the horses."

He'd never seen her so excited. She was normally quite guarded, and seeing her like this was refreshing. As he got out and followed her across the grass, he tried not to gawk at the house or the impeccably maintained grounds around it. Elizabeth, meanwhile, seemed perfectly at home, and Henry tried to focus on that. Seeing her so happy made him feel warm inside, and he loved that he was able to witness that.

"Hi, beautiful," she was saying to the horse in the first stall by the time he reached her. She seemed so comfortable around them, and while they made Henry slightly nervous, he was strangely calmed by Elizabeth's ease.

He watched and listened as she animatedly told him about each of the horses in the stable, explaining their names and how old they were and which ones were good for which kind of riding. Her blue eyes were alight with joy and her blonde ponytail swished as she turned from the horse to Henry and back again rapidly while she gestured in emphasis. She looked so beautiful, afternoon sunlight shining on her skin and lighting up the lightest shades of her hair. He was captivated by her, as he always was, but somehow in those moments even more so than usual. He just remained silent, smiling at her as she explained it all to him, rambling on about trail rides and jumps and dressage and horseshoes. This was a new side of her, and Henry had very quickly decided that he adored it. This, he thought, might be his favorite side of Elizabeth. When she'd finished making her rounds to each stall, she ended up close to him again, on the opposite side from where she'd started, and she finally stopped talking long enough for him to get a word in edgewise, not that he'd been trying. He smiled, still didn't speak, and reached out to take her hand, pulling her close to him. There, framed in the doorway of the stable, he kissed her gently. She smiled against him and his hand rested on her hip, just at the waistband of her favorite jeans.

"You are incredible," he said softly, and she laughed. She pulled back to look at him, smiling up at him as her familiar ocean eyes met his.

"I'm so glad you're here," she said, and just like that Henry didn't feel so out of place anymore. It hit him suddenly, and hard, and he swallowed against the feeling that crept into him. It was as if, with everything that she was, every wonder that she incited within him, Elizabeth had become something more than he'd realized she was. She'd become home. With her at his side, Henry had suddenly realized, he felt like he was home, no matter where he was. He thought, in that moment, that he could have been anywhere in the world but as long as she was looking at him like that, he'd feel like he was right where he belonged.

"Are you okay?" she asked. He smiled brightly at her.

"Never better," he answered truthfully, because Henry McCord was quite certain he'd just kissed the woman he was going to marry and spend the rest of his life with.

"Okay," she answered with a smile. "You're looking at me weird."

Henry shook his head and kissed her forehead.

"It just makes me happy to see you so happy," he told her, and she couldn't help but smile at that.

"Well," she began, "you're about to see me even happier because we're going riding!"

Henry was unsure about that, but he just nodded; right then, he would have followed her to the ends of the earth, be it on foot, in a plane, or even on horseback.


	37. Appendectomy

**A/N: In chapter 66 of the first volume of these stories, I mentioned several other scars that Elizabeth had. I've written one fic based on one of those scars, and I recently got a request for another one. This is based on the appendectomy I mentioned that occurred eighteen months into Henry and Elizabeth's marriage. I honestly don't know how this would fit with Henry's deployments and Stevie's birth, but let's call it somewhere in between those two events and leave it at that because that's not the point of the story.**

Henry sat in the hospital waiting room on the uncomfortable chair, all squeaky vinyl and cheap wood. He shifted nervously; he knew that in all likelihood, Elizabeth would be fine. He knew that appendectomies were about as routine as surgeries got, that these surgeons did this kind of thing all the time. And none of that knowledge kept him from being on edge and desperate for it all to be over so that he could be next to her again. He'd spent more than enough time apart from her recently, having only just gotten back to her and their life together. He couldn't imagine what it would feel like to have that taken away now. Another deployment was, of course, a possibility, but Henry couldn't even think of that now. All he could think about was Elizabeth, and making sure that she was okay. He leaned back and thought back on the previous few hours, which had all started when he'd woken up to find Elizabeth already awake, the tell-tale sound of vomiting drawing Henry from the warmth of the bed to check on his wife.

 _She looked miserable, and he immediately knelt next to her, pulling her hair from her own hand where she was holding it back from her face. He gathered the stray strands that she'd missed into his hand and used his other one to rub her back soothingly._

 _A few moments later, she leaned back and he watched pain flicker across her features._

" _Sorry for waking you," she muttered, but Henry shook his head._

" _It's fine, baby," he assured her. He rested the inside of his wrist against her forehead, finding it warm with fever._

" _You feel like you can move?" he asked her quietly, but she shook her head. She rested the back of her head against his shoulder and his hand smoothed through her hair, pulling sweaty strands of it off of her forehead._

" _Okay," he breathed. "We can stay here."_

 _She nodded silently, eyes closed against the intense pain in her abdomen that she was determinedly not mentioning. She knew Henry would freak out and she just wanted to stay still and wait for it to pass. It was probably just cramps, anyway, and there was no need to make a big deal out of it. Soon, however, the nausea had returned and elizabeth found herself leaning forward again._

 _Henry held her hair back and watched her; something wasn't right and he knew it, but he didn't want to push her too hard. He knew she could be sensitive about being pressured, and even more so when she wasn't feeling well- which, right then, she was clearly not._

" _Henry," she gasped, and he looked down at her to find that she was pressing her hand against her right side. What he saw on her face scared him; he'd never seen her so expressively in pain._

" _Elizabeth?" he asked uncertainly._

" _It hurts," she managed. "Really hurts."_

 _The second round of vomiting had increased the pain in her side marginally, and suddenly Elizabeth found herself thinking that maybe it was a big deal after all._

" _Okay," Henry said. "Alright, we're going to the hospital."_

 _He waited, pausing for a beat to give her a chance to argue. When she didn't, he could feel his heartbeat picking up speed in his chest. This couldn't be good._

 _He stood and held out his hand to her, and she took it, but when she tried to stand, pain ripped through her lower abdomen and she groaned as she leaned forward._

" _Okay, okay," Henry muttered. "It's okay, I've got you."_

 _He lifted her into his arms, wincing at the sound that came out of her mouth in response to the sudden movement. He hated seeing her in pain, and being the cause of it, even if it was so that he could get her to the hospital where someone could help her, was heart wrenching._

" _I know, honey, I'm sorry," he said. He made his way out of the house quickly, in a rush to get her to the hospital. He glanced down at her and found tears streaming down her cheeks, her eyes shut tight._

" _It's going to be okay," he murmured as he managed to get them both out the door and to his car. Opening the door was tricky, but he managed, and he awkwardly settled her into the passenger seat. He did the buckle for her, as she was now sobbing with pain. Fear had taken over every cell in Henry's body, but he was acting on instinct. Later, he would wonder why he hadn't called an ambulance, but he supposed his mind hadn't been working quite the way it normally did._

" _Henry," Elizabeth managed as he drove to the hospital. He glanced over at her and then back at the road, willing himself not to lose it. Not yet, at least. She needed him right then, and he didn't have time to panic._

" _I know, sweetheart," he assured her. "It's going to be okay."_

 _He pulled to a stop outside the emergency entrance, the glowing red letters a welcome sight to Henry in the early morning haze. He lifted Elizabeth into his arms again and she cried out in pain. Henry fought to keep it together, knowing that she needed him._

" _It's okay, baby, we're gonna get you some help. It's going to be alright, I promise."_

 _It had been a whirlwind after that, and Henry had barely had a chance to think until Elizabeth, diagnosed with appendicitis, was pulled away to go into surgery. She'd looked scared, and that had been unsettling._

" _I'll see you soon, baby," he had said to her, leaning in to kiss her head._

" _I love you," she had whispered, and Henry had to fight back tears at that._

" _I love you too. You're going to be alright."_

And then she was gone, and now Henry was alone and waiting for news. He was unsure of how long he'd been sitting there when he heard his name and looked up.

"McCord?" the woman asked again and Henry nodded, standing nervously before her.

"Is my wife okay?" he asked, and received a kind smile in return.

"She's doing just fine," came the answer that almost had Henry back in the chair, it brought such relief.

"Can I see her?" he asked eagerly, and she nodded. Moments later, Henry was in the room with Elizabeth, who looked remarkably peaceful as she slept in the small hospital bed. It was a welcome sight to the memory of her in such immense pain, and Henry took it in fully as he sat next to her.

"She'll be awake soon," the nurse told him, and then Henry and Elizabeth were alone. True to the nurse's prediction, elizabeth began to stir a few minutes after Henry's arrival, fingers tightening subtly around his as she slowly opened her eyes. She looked over at him, sitting beside her, and if you'd asked Henry right then, he would have said that she'd never looked more beautiful than she did in that moment.

"Henry?" she mumbled.

"Yeah, right here," he assured her.

"What happened?" she asked, confused in those early moments as to where she was and why.

"Appendicitis," he reminded her, and with that it all came rushing back.

"Right," she muttered, gently testing her muscles and finding that she felt mostly okay, although she assumed that could be attributed to pain medication. She glanced over at Henry, finding that he looked pale and worn.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly, and he chuckled lightly.

"I'm fine," he said dismissively, reaching out to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"Liar," she said. He smiled. He should have known that she would call him out, but hearing her do so did serve to make him feel better. It was comforting, for her to be more like herself.

"I was just worried," he admitted.

"I'm okay," she said softly, and he could see her energy starting to fade already. He smiled slightly at her, leaning in to kiss her cheek lightly.

"Rest, Elizabeth," he said, and she groaned.

"I don't want to," she complained, and he laughed.

"I'm glad to see you're sounding more like yourself," he began, "but you need to rest. Come on, close your eyes for me."

"Fine," she sighed, but she turned her head toward him, blue eyes still open.

"I love you, Henry," she said, voice taking on a serious note.

"I love you, too, beautiful," he assured her with a gentle squeeze of her hand. And then she was asleep, and Henry was left in the silence to count his blessings.


	38. Down The Aisle

**Prompt:** **Henry's accident occurs just before Stevie's wedding, and he's devastated that he won't be able to walk her down the aisle or dance with her.**

Henry held back tears as he looked down at the photo in his hands. It had been taken the year that his eldest child had turned five years old. In the photo, which had been taken by Elizabeth, Stevie was wearing a pale pink dress and little white flowers in her hair. She'd been the flower girl for a close friend's wedding, and she had loved it. In the photo, she and Henry were looking at one another and Henry was beaming at her while she giggled. He couldn't recall what he'd said or done to make her laugh like that, but he did remember what she had said next…

 _1999_

" _You did a great job being the flower girl, Stevie," he praised as he ran a hand along the sash of her puffy little dress. She bounced on her tip-toes and smiled brightly at him, displaying the gap in her smile thanks to the loss of her first tooth the week before._

" _Thanks, Daddy," she replied. "It was so fun."_

" _Yeah?" Henry laughed._

" _Yeah." She tilted her head as she looked at him. "Daddy?" she asked._

" _Yes, baby?"_

" _When can I get married?" she asked, innocent blue eyes glittering as she met his gaze. Henry laughed, brushing a gentle hand over her cheek._

" _Not for a long, long time," he replied._

" _But I want to wear a dress like that white one," she said. Henry smiled at her._

" _You'll get to," he assured her. "Someday, I promise. And guess what?"_

" _What?" she asked eagerly._

" _When that day gets here," he began, "I'm gonna be right there beside you, and it's going to be even more fun than being a flower girl."_

" _That's a lot of fun."_

 _Henry laughed._

" _You're right," he agreed. "That is a lot of fun."_

Henry was pulled from his reverie by Elizabeth's gentle touch on his shoulder. He glanced back to find her looking down at him sympathetically.

"Hi, honey," she said softly.

"Hey," he breathed.

"How are you doing?" she asked, and Henry shook his head.

"Elizabeth," he said. "How am I going to do this?" His voice was thick with emotion, and it broke her heart. She wanted nothing more than to be able to take it all away. Instead, she leaned in and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pressing her lips to his head as she gazed at the photo in his hands.

"How am I going to go to our daughter's wedding and just...watch?" he asked.

"Oh, Henry," Elizabeth breathed. "I'm so sorry, baby. I know how hard this is going to be for you. But it's better that you be there on the sidelines than not be there at all, right?"

"I guess."

Silence settled over them.

"She's just going to be glad to have you there, Henry," Elizabeth said.

"Yes, but she's our baby, Elizabeth," Henry replied, turning an anguished gaze on his wife. "I've been dreaming about walking Stevie down the aisle since the day she was born. Before she was born. Before she was even...a concept. I've been imagining dancing with my daughter at her wedding for so long, and now because of this, I can't."

"Henry-"

"Elizabeth, please," he begged as he met her eyes. "Please don't try to make this better, okay?"

Elizabeth nodded silently, leaning in to kiss his forehead with a small, halfhearted smile, before she turned and left the room, leaving Henry there alone with the photo of his little girl in his hands.

"Hey, Mom," Stevie said as she entered her parents' house.

"Hey, baby," Elizabeth replied, rising to greet Stevie and wrapping her arms around her daughter.

"How is he?" Stevie asked anxiously. Elizabeth sighed.

"Devastated," she replied honestly. "I don't know if there's anything you can say to him that's going to make this okay, Stevie."

To Elizabeth's surprise, Stevie smiled at her.

"What?" Elizabeth asked, and Stevie shrugged.

"I think there might be one thing I can say," she replied. "In the den?" she asked, and her mother nodded affirmatively, watching as Stevie made her way through the house. Elizabeth stood there for a beat, and then followed, unable to stop herself from listening in.

In the den, Stevie found her dad staring at the TV, but she was certain he wasn't taking any of it in. She touched his shoulder as she approached, and he glanced back at her, attempting to paste a smile on his face for her sake.

"Hey," she said as she rounded the couch to sit beside him. "How are the legs?"

"Oh, uh...could be worse," Henry replied, trying to brush it off as if the question hadn't sent a wave of guilt and anger rushing through him. "How about you? How's the bride to be?"

"I'm good," Stevie replied.

"Your mom call you to come over here?" Henry asked.

"Technically, yes," Stevie began, "but I was planning to come anyway. I wanted to check up on you."

"Well, here I am," Henry replied, and Stevie didn't miss the bitterness in his tone.

"Yeah," she said. She adjusted herself on the couch so that she could face him more easily, and watched him draw in a breath, clearly trying to keep the conversation light.

"So, how are the wedding plans?" he asked, and Stevie shrugged.

"Well, much less stressful now that the wedding has been pushed back," she replied off-handedly. Henry stared at her.

"What?" he asked.

"Oh, come on Dad," Stevie said, shaking her head. "Did you really think I was going to get married with anyone but you walking me down the aisle?"

"Stevie, I-"

"No," she said gently, reaching out to take his hand. "It's not an inconvenience or-or something I'm doing just to make you feel better. Dad, I don't want to get married with you watching from the sidelines. You and I have been talking about my wedding day for as long as I can remember, and it's important to me, for you to be a part of it."

Henry swallowed hard, attempting to hold back tears as he looked at his daughter.

"Are you sure?" he asked cautiously. "Because I know you had everything worked out already and-"

"Dad," Stevie said, interrupting him with a smile. "I'm sure. Dates can be changed and people can be a little inconvenienced and maybe some people won't be able to make it but… if we push it back, the most important guy in my life will be able to make it and, if you ask me, that's what counts."

Henry reached out to her and she laughed lightly as he wrapped his arms around her. She returned the hug and breathed in the familiar scent of her dad. Meanwhile in the kitchen, Elizabeth was leaning against the wall with tears streaming down her cheeks.

"I love you, Stevie," Henry whispered through his tears.

"I love you more, Dad."


	39. Stay

**Prompt: Because of how she lost her parents, not walking away angry has always been a priority for Elizabeth. It broke her heart the one and only time Henry did it, and ever since he's always stayed to work things out.**

 **Set while Stevie is engaged to Jareth.**

"Can I ask you guys a question?" Stevie inquired of her parents. She was standing in the kitchen while her mom and dad tag-teamed kitchen cleanup.

"Yeah, of course," Henry answered for the pair of them, and Elizabeth glanced over at her daughter to signal that she, too, was listening.

"How do you guys resolve things without walking away?" she asked. "I've never seen you guys go separate ways on bad terms, at least not more than a little spat." She sighed, running a hand through her hair before continuing. "Jareth and I," she began, "we're a mess; it's like with our schedules we can never manage to resolve anything before we have to go our separate ways."

Henry and Elizabeth looked at one another, and in that moment, they were both back in the first little apartment they'd shared, newlyweds fresh out of their first blowout fight.

 _Elizabeth was sitting on the edge of the couch, sobs wracking her body as she played back the whole argument in her mind._

 _Just as she had been for the last hour, since Henry had stormed out without a resolution to said argument, slamming the door on his way out._

 _Slamming the door on her._

 _Her head was pounding, so much so that she almost didn't hear the gentle knocking on the door that prefaced Henry's reentrance by only seconds. A courtesy knock._

" _Elizabeth?" he asked, soft and gentle, unlike the harsh tones and cutting words he'd used with her before he'd left. Seeing her sobbing uncontrollably, Henry shut the door behind him and moved quickly to his wife's side._

" _Hey, baby, come here," he said quietly. It was a mark of how upset she was that she came so willingly, folding into his arms so completely that she was nearly in his lap._

" _Shh," he soothed. "Shh. You're okay. It's okay, sweetheart."_

" _Henry," she sobbed._

" _Hold on, Elizabeth. Just try and calm down first, okay? We have plenty of time to talk, I promise."_

 _His words, while meant to help her, seemed to only make her cry more._

 _Henry decided to stay quiet from that point out, just holding his wife as she cried in his arms, talking nonsense to her and making quiet shushing sounds, assuring her that she was okay._

 _He had no idea how long they stayed there like that before her crying started to subside and she settled with her head against his shoulder, her fingers wrapped around the fabric of his shirt._

" _Henry," she whispered._

" _Are you okay, babe?" he asked her softly._

" _You can't do that," she said , her voice still shaky._

" _Do what, exactly?"_

" _Leave!" she exclaimed, pulling back to look at him with bright blue eyes that were still gorgeous in spite of being puffy and bloodshot from all the tears. "My parents...they left that day and there were unresolved issues, and they never came back, Henry. They died that day, and I never...those issues never got resolved so you can't just walk out in the middle of fighting with me because I can't- you can't die out there with me angry at you and that be the last thing that happened between us. It can't happen like that again."_

" _Okay," Henry said. "Okay, Elizabeth. I won't."_

 _There was tender, tentative silence between them._

" _I'm sorry," he said, breaking it as he reached out to take her hand. She let him, tangling her fingers with his._

" _Me too," she said quietly. He sighed and wrapped his arm securely around her shoulders; she melted against his side, and he rested his cheek against the top of her head._

" _I didn't mean to upset you, Elizabeth," he said._

" _I know," she sighed. "Marriage is hard."_

 _He smiled slightly._

" _Yeah. But worth it, if you ask me."_

" _Me, too," she agreed, looking up at him with a small smile._

" _I love you, Henry. Thank you for staying."_

" _Always," he said honestly. Then, he smiled at her. "Babe, you and me? That's forever."_

"Well," Elizabeth began, "Stevie, honestly, it all comes down to communication."

"She's right," Henry agreed. "Your mom and I don't have it all together, by any means. We certainly didn't at your age. But when one of us did something that wasn't okay, the other said something about it."

"Just talk to Jareth," Elizabeth advised as she hugged her daughter. "If he doesn't listen to you, frankly, he just isn't worth it."

Stevie nodded, offering a small smile to the two of them as she reached for her bag.

"Thanks, guys," she said. "Love you."

They chorused 'love you' back at her and stood side-by-side as they watched her walk away.

"Think Jareth is the one?" Henry asked Elizabeth quietly.

"Guess we'll find out."


	40. Elevator Ride

**Prompt: Elizabeth and a member of her staff are stuck in an elevator and that staff member has a panic attack.**

 **If y'all didn't know it was gonna be Blake, you don't know me at all, that's all I'm saying.**

Elizabeth was in a very good mood. She was heading home, and early no less. That almost never happened, and she couldn't wait to go and surprise Henry with the fact that she was actually home in time to help him with dinner.

Well, keep him company at least.

Either way, she was thinking as she headed toward the elevator with her assistant falling into step beside her, Henry was going to be thrilled. Maybe they would have one of those really steamy makeout sessions, the ones that inevitably ended with her backed against the cool surface of the refrigerator, and if the kids happened to be out...maybe dinner could wait.

She shook her head; she wasn't home yet, after all, and she was hoping to maintain her decorum until she was through the door of her house. Then, all bets would be off.

"Ready for the weekend, Blake?" she chirped, maybe a little bit too cheerfully based on the way he looked at her.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, a note of caution in his tone. "And you?"

"Very much so," she sighed, and she caught his knowing smile out of the corner of her eye.

The doors of the elevator slid open and Elizabeth, followed by Blake, stepped inside. She was caught up in her thoughts of Henry and dinner and just being able to take those damn shoes off, until suddenly she was caught off guard by the sudden jolting of the elevator. The lights flickered and Elizabeth heard Blake draw in a sharp breath to her right as the elevator screeched to a stop.

"Oh no," Blake breathed.

"Great," Elizabeth muttered at the same time. "I should have known that this day was too good to be true." Her thoughts of Henry and his gentle hands and familiar lips and talented fingers were slipping away quickly and Elizabeth was incredibly annoyed. "What ever happened to good days?" she asked aloud. "The days when things I planned actually happened? What happened to-"

A sound from Blake, somewhere between a whimper and a sob, pulled Elizabeth's attention from her pity party, and she looked over to find him leaning against the wall, fingers wrapped around his tie. He looked utterly terrified, and Elizabeth felt her mom instincts kick in; suddenly, even her annoyance had faded to make room for the immense care she held within her for Blake. He was like family to her, and she hated seeing him looking at her like that.

"Blake?" she said gently. "Can you hear me?"

He nodded shortly, but he had slipped down the wall and was now sitting on the floor of the elevator, looking very panicked.

"Okay," she said soothingly. "I know you're scared, but I need you to breathe, alright? Think you can do that for me?" she asked. He was trying to, but was quickly discovering that was easier said than done.

Elizabeth knelt in front of him. In a busy building like this one, she knew it wasn't likely to be long before someone noticed and fixed the issue with the elevator, whatever the issue was. But she knew that reason wasn't going to get through to Blake, not right now. She met his dark eyes and smiled softly at him.

"There you go," she said encouragingly. "Just breathe. You've got this."

He shook his head in panic and Elizabeth reached out slowly, resting her hand on his knee.

"Blake, look at me," she said. He did, and she held his gaze. "I know you're scared," she repeated. "But you're going to be fine. I'm right here with you, and everything is going to be okay. Alright? I promise."

There was something soothing about the way she was speaking to him, unlike how she had ever spoken to him before. Slow and soft and reassuring. Blake, in his panicky haze, found himself reaching for the hand that was still resting on his knee. Elizabeth took it in stride, grasping his fingers in her own with a small, encouraging smile.

"There you go," she said. "See? You and I are right here together, and everything's fine. You just keep breathing, okay, Blake? Nice and slow."

"Don't like- elevators," he choked, and Elizabeth just nodded her head, squeezing his hand gently.

"I know," she replied. "But you know what, they're going to get this thing moving again really soon, alright? And then we're both gonna go home and enjoy our weekend."

Blake nodded jerkily and she smiled at him again.

"You're doing great, Blake," she said. "Just keep breathing." She settled on the floor in front of him and continued to hold his hand. She had always adored Blake; part of why she'd hired him was how much she liked him. He'd been her guy, in the early days of her time at the State Department when it had felt like no one was her guy. But Blake was. Always there, steadfast in his awkward and lovable nature, not to mention his attentiveness to her and her preferences. He would do anything she asked, and do it with efficacy and seemingly with ease. Even the most menial of tasks were ones that Blake took on with great responsibility, and Elizabeth had grown to appreciate her assistant as much more than an employee.

"I don't-"

"Shh," Elizabeth said. "It's okay, Blake, just breathe. You don't have to talk, okay? It's alright."

He nodded slightly and she smiled reassuringly at him.

The elevator shuddered and Blake whimpered softly. Elizabeth glanced around at the elevator as the buttons lit up and it began to move again.

"Look at that," Elizabeth said lightly. "Moving again already, see?" She squeezed his hand and he opened his eyes to look at her.

"We're going to be out of here in just a minute," she assured him. As the elevator slid to a stop and dinged, Blake looked up and scrambled to his feet, stumbling out of the elevator ahead of her just as the doors slid open.

"Madam Secretary, you alright?" asked the DS Agent who had been waiting in the lobby. Elizabeth nodded at him, resting her hand on Blake's back as he was doubled over, breathing heavily.

"Hey, Blake, how you doing?" she asked softly. He nodded slightly, face flushing as he realized what an idiot he'd made of himself trapped in the elevator with the Secretary.

"I'm sorry about that," he began, but she shook her head.

"No, don't apologize," she said. "It's alright. You doing okay? Need some water?"

As if on cue, Matt was at her side with a bottle of water. She thanked him, opened it, and handed it to her assistant, still watching him with concern.

"Thank you," Blake said shakily. Again, Elizabeth shook her head.

"It's alright," she replied. "Just take it easy, okay?"

He nodded and they stood in silence for a moment.

"You okay?" she asked, and he nodded. She chuckled lightly.

"Don't be embarrassed, Blake, you've seen me at my worst," she reminded him as she patted his shoulder comfortingly. He nodded, still awkward, and she smiled at him.

"Come on," she said. "Let's get out of here and start this weekend."

Blake nodded.

"Thank you, Madam Secretary," he said, and they shared a small smile as they headed side-by-side out of the building.


	41. Patient

**Prompt: For a long time after returning from Iran, the only way Elizabeth could fall asleep was as the big spoon.**

Henry watched Elizabeth from his side of their bed as she removed her glasses and sat down on the edge of the mattress. Since returning from Iran mere hours ago, miraculously in one piece, she'd said little. He didn't want to push her to talk, knowing that she tended to close up about this kind of thing. Truthfully, Henry was shaken too, and he was not particularly eager to discuss the details of what had happened in Iran. They would, but not tonight. Tonight, he really just wanted to hold her and remind himself that she was safe and alive and back home with him and their children. The lights went off, and they settled silently into bed side by side. As he normally did, Henry moved himself closer to Elizabeth and wrapped his arms around her. Usually, she would settle back against his chest and closer to him. Tonight, however, she tensed at the way his body surrounded hers and Henry only had a split second to process that before she was out of his grasp and on the other side of the mattress in the dark, her breathing shallow.

"Elizabeth?" he asked. He moved the flick the light on again and, looking over at her, found her sitting with her back against the headboard, eyes closed, attempting to steady herself.

"Henry," she breathed, reaching her hand out. He took it, and she squeezed his fingers tightly.

"I'm right here," he assured her. "It's okay."

"I just-"

"It's alright," he said softly. "Elizabeth, honey, just breathe. Just breathe."

He watched her as she slowly steadied herself, concern shining in his hazel eyes as he observed her.

"I'm sorry, I just can't-" she began. Henry nodded his head and squeezed her hand.

"It's alright, babe. It's okay."

She exhaled forcefully and looked over at him, tears sparkling in her eyes. Something about being so surrounded by someone like that- even Henry- had taken her right back to the floor, with Fred on top of her and Abdol's heart wrenching screams echoing in her ears. Now, looking over at her gentle, concerned husband, she felt like she was spiraling. She wanted to be wrapped up in his arms; in fact, it was all she'd been thinking about since the plane had lifted off the tarmac in Iran. Now, she was frustrated with the fact that as much as she wanted him to hold her, she couldn't handle it.

"Hey," Henry breathed, watching as tears started to fall down her cheeks. She looked up at him and he communicated his love for her wordlessly with the way he looked at her.

"Baby, it's okay," he said softly. "You've been through a lot, Elizabeth, it's alright."

It had been a long time since he'd needed to comfort her this way, but he found that it was like muscle memory now that he could see she needed it.

"I want to be held, but I just- I can't," she sobbed.

"Hey, I know," Henry assured her. "It's okay, Elizabeth, I promise."

"It's not okay," she said. "It's not. I-"

"Babe, calm down," he said softly. He reached out and brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear, cradling her cheek in his palm. She leaned into the touch. "Nobody is blaming you, okay? Especially not me," he assured her. "Just take it easy, alright? We're going to figure this out, and it's going to be okay."

She nodded slightly.

"Here," he said with a glance around the bed. "Let's just try switching, okay? We'll start with that."

"Okay," Elizabeth agreed cautiously.

"Let me know if you're uncomfortable, alright? I promise I won't be upset," he said, and she nodded. Slowly, with Henry facing the bathroom, she settled herself against his back, their bodies pressed together beneath the sheets. Henry didn't like not being able to see her, but he definitely wasn't going to say as much. The last thing he wanted was to make her feel badly about needing to rearrange so that she felt safe.

"You okay?" he asked softly. He felt her nod against him.

"Yeah," she whispered. He tangled his fingers with hers and reached out to turn the light off again.

"I'm sorry, Henry," she whispered.

"Elizabeth, you're here," he reminded her. "I don't care how we sleep. You're home safe and that's all that matters."

She pressed her cheek against his shoulder and sighed, wondering how she'd ever gotten lucky enough to have a man like Henry at her side.

"It's going to be alright, Elizabeth," he said softly. "We're going to get through it together."

"You don't even know what happened," she breathed.

"I don't have to know what happened to know that we're going to get through it," he said. "We always do, babe. It's going to be alright."

 _Three months later…_

Henry was barely even thinking about it as he settled into bed with his back to his wife, expecting her to press herself against his back as she had every night since her return from Iran. Elizabeth, however, was hesitating, and Henry could sense the shift in the energy.

"Babe, you okay?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder at her. She looked over at him, blue eyes betraying her vulnerability.

"Can we try to switch?" she asked. There was a beat of silence following her words. Now that Henry had a full understanding of what had happened to her, he knew why she hadn't been able to handle being held that way.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "You know we don't have to."

"I know," she said. "But I miss it."

"Okay," Henry agreed as he flipped over to his other side. "Just let me know if you need me to stop."

She nodded, and, heart hammering, took a deep and steadying breath.

"Just go slowly, babe," he said softly, and she nodded again, taking comfort in the familiar tones of his voice. Slowly, she settled herself against his chest and Henry wrapped his arms around her.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said. And she was. She was okay. She relaxed against him and Henry pulled her slightly closer against him.

"Henry?" she said quietly after a moment of silence.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you," she breathed.

"For what?" he asked, words brushing against her locks of blonde hair. She smiled slightly as she brought his hand to her lips and brushed a kiss against the skin of his knuckles.

"For being patient," she answered. Henry smiled slightly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"I'd wait for you forever," he said, the same phrase that he'd used decades earlier in the midst of her panic about committing to a relationship. Elizabeth closed her eyes and soon she was asleep, wrapped up in Henry's arms the way she'd wanted to be for the past three months.


	42. Attentive

**Prompt: Henry has returned from deployment and Elizabeth can't stop hovering and fussing, even though she knows he doesn't like it.**

Henry had been home for six days. As much as he'd been looking forward to being back with Elizabeth and just being home again, he was going a little bit insane. He had failed to calculate how much this would impact Elizabeth, and as a result he'd been entirely blindsided by the way she had reacted. She had barely left his side the entire time, and that he wouldn't have minded, but it was more than that. This was not simply her wanting to spent time with him, having missed him, as he'd thought at first. No, this was something else. She was hovering in a way that he'd never witnessed from her before, and as much as Henry appreciated the sentiment behind her concern for him, he knew he couldn't take it for much longer. It was as if he were a bomb and she was just waiting for him to go off. She seemed to have eyes on him at all times and he was pretty sure she was barely sleeping because every time he fell asleep, she was still awake, and she was already awake every time he woke up again. Not only was he losing it due to her constant attention and attempts to do things for him, but he was also worried about her.

On the seventh day that Henry was home, he rolled over, eyes still closed, and reached for Elizabeth. His outstretched fingertips met smooth, warm skin and he smiled slightly, still half-asleep. Slowly, he opened his eyes and was met immediately with the sight of Elizabeth's familiar features, blue eyes already open and watching him intently. She smiled slightly at him as he looked over at her.

"Hi," she said softly.

"Hi," he replied. He leaned in and kissed her gently, and she smiled against him. He might have been losing it a little with her attentiveness, but this was something Henry was quite sure he'd never get tired of. Which was why it was so frustrating for him when she pulled away all too soon.

"Coffee?" she asked, already all business as she started to move from the bed. Henry sat up and reached for her, fingers catching her wrist as she moved. She glanced back at him.

"Something wrong?" she asked. "What?"

"Elizabeth," he sighed. "Baby, come here."

"What?" she asked, sounding on edge and watching him nervously as she slowly sat back down.

"Can you just slow down for a minute, please?" he asked.

"I was just going to-"

"Make coffee, I know," Henry filled in as she trailed off. He watched her for a moment.

"You know that I'm capable of making coffee too, right?" he asked lightly. She turned her gaze away from him.

"I'm also capable of a lot of other things," he continued in the same light tone. "Like doing the dishes and going on the grocery run and brushing my teeth without a rapt audience."

"What are you saying?" she asked cautiously. He sighed and combed his fingers through her hair.

"Elizabeth, I'm just...what's going on with you?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" she asked evasively.

"I mean, you've been watching me like a hawk since I got home, to the point that I'm worried about you. Are you sleeping at all?" he asked.

"Of course I am," she replied.

"Well, could have fooled me," he said, not unkindly. "You're falling asleep after me and waking up before me every single day, and you look exhausted."

Elizabeth sighed.

"Baby, I love you, but we can't keep going on like this. What's happening here?" he asked.

"I'm just worried, okay?" she said.

"Worried about what?"

"I heard all these stories while you were gone," she began, looking down at her hands, where her fingers were spinning her wedding band in circles on her hand. "Stories about soldiers who came home...and they were different than they had been. You know, they'd seen things and they were affected by it and their wives just expected everything to go back to the way it had been so they missed all the signs, like the nervousness and the sadness and the nightmares, and-"

"And that's why you've been watching me so attentively," Henry finished. It all seemed so clear now that he wondered how he'd missed it before. She nodded slightly, glancing up at him, and he was overrun with a rush of affection for her.

"Oh, sweetheart, come here," he said quietly, reaching out to pull her close. She came willingly, curling up against his chest as he held her tight and kissed the top of her head.

"I'm sorry I've been annoying you," she said quietly, and Henry chuckled lightly.

"Honestly, babe, I was mostly just worried about you," he said. "Listen," he continued, smoothing his hand over her light locks of hair. "You don't need to be so worried about me, alright?"

"Are you sure?" she asked, and he looked down at her, finding fear in the blue eyes that he loved so much.

"I'm sure," he replied. "Baby, I was in a war zone, but not like you think. It wasn't as bad for me as it is for a lot of those guys, and yes, I've seen things, but I'm okay. I'm proud of the service I've done for my country and I promise you, Elizabeth, if something was wrong I would tell you. Alright?"

She nodded slightly and looked down, but Henry lifted her chin with his finger to look at her again.

"I appreciate your concern, I really do," he said. "But I'm still me. And you're still you. You've got to be able to live your life, though. You've got to sleep, for starters. And we've got to get back in the swing of our life together, and that means you have to be you, alright?"

"I get that," she said. She hesitated and then met his gaze.

"I just spent so long being worried that I'm not sure I know how not to be anymore," she admitted. Henry kissed her forehead.

"We're going to figure it out together," he promised. "And it's going to be a process. But we're going to start with me making coffee for you instead, okay?"

Elizabeth smiled at that.

"I _guess_ I could let you do that," she teased, and Henry laughed.

"I love you," he mumbled against her lips as they captured one another in a sweet kiss.

"I love you too," she replied. "Now I'm gonna need that coffee."


	43. Mom

**Prompt: Henry is a fantastic, hands-on father, but there is one thing for which the kids will only go to Elizabeth.**

It had started when Stevie was only about three years old. Her screaming had woken her parents, sending Henry racing just paces ahead of his wife into their daughter's bedroom. Stevie was sitting in her bed, somehow both screaming and struggling to breathe.

Henry rushed forward, looking her over in a half-asleep panic.

"Stevie, honey, what's wrong?" he asked. "Hey, calm down sweetheart. Calm down for Daddy, okay?"

"No!" Stevie screamed. Henry didn't know what to think, let alone what to do.

"Stevie, it's okay," he tried again.

"Mommy!" Stevie sobbed, and Elizabeth was taking Henry's place in an instant. It had become clear to them both; Stevie was unharmed, but distraught over a nightmare. Miraculously, their through and through Daddy's girl wanted Elizabeth.

"Hey, hey," Elizabeth said softly. She reached out for Stevie, and her little girl came more than willingly into her arms. In fact, Stevie practically threw herself at her mom.

"Oh, baby, it's okay," she said softly. She held Stevie close, rocking gently back and forth. "You're okay, honey."

She looked up to find Henry staring at her, a mix of shock and tender love on his face.

"Did you have a bad dream, baby girl?" Elizabeth hummed. She stroked Stevie's light hair as her daughter buried her face in the crook of Elizabeth's neck as she nodded her head. "Oh, honey. It's okay. Mama's got you."

Slowly, Stevie calmed down and soon enough, Elizabeth was able to lay the little girl back in her bed and she and Henry could creep quietly out of her room and back to their own. In the semi-darkness, Henry turned to Elizabeth.

"Well, that was unexpected," he said. Elizabeth nodded her head.

"Guess Mom is good for something," she said with a shrug. Henry smiled, reaching out to wrap his arms around her.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" he asked.

"So good."

"Well," Henry chuckled. "You rocked the Mom game tonight."

Alison, who had a naturally anxious and empathetic nature, had frequent nightmares. There was actually a point when they took her to the doctor to see if there was something that needed to be done about it. When they decided she would just grow out of it, they took her home prepared for a lot of sleepless nights. As it turned out, Henry wasn't a lot of help with their second child either. When Henry would try to console her, Alison would scream for Elizabeth. And Elizabeth dutifully and graciously rose from bed each night to comfort her little girl.

Alison's nightmares subsided and there was a space of time in which Elizabeth's Mom game wasn't needed for middle of the night calls from their kids.

However, one night when Jason was almost five, Elizabeth woke up to her youngest's face very close to hers next to her side of the bed.

"Jace," she said softly, blinking away sleep. She was suddenly aware of the tears on his cheeks.

"Mommy," he mumbled, reaching for her. Her heart softened along with her features as she sat up, lifting Jason from the floor into her arms. He melted into her, curling his little fingers around the fabric of the tee shirt she was wearing.

Henry stirred and opened his eyes, taking in the scene before him.

"'Lizabeth?" he mumbled. "You okay?" She laughed lightly.

"I think Jace here had a bad dream," she said softly.

"Well then I guess I'm useless, huh?" he said softly, reaching out to run a hand over Jason's head, which was now nestled against Elizabeth. She chuckled and nodded.

"Go back to sleep, babe," she told Henry gently. "Someone has to be up to cook these babies breakfast and it's definitely not me."

Henry laughed, leaning in to kiss her lightly. Henry rolled over to go back to sleep, and Elizabeth held her son close, rocking him gently until they both fell asleep.


	44. Calling Home

**Prompt: Henry hearing about Andrada groping Elizabeth.**

Elizabeth's fingers were trembling. She glanced across the aisle of the plane at Blake, who was in the process of putting earbuds into his ears. She was grateful, not for the first time, for Blake's tact. He offered her a small smile and then put the earbuds in, leaving Elizabeth to look down at her phone. She took a slow breath and dialed her husband before holding the phone to her ear. It rang one, two, three times, began to ring again, and then there was a click.

"Hello?"

Elizabeth drew in a breath at the sound of her husband's voice. She felt as if she were on the verge of a minor breakdown, and Henry's voice just made her want to be home with him, wrapped up safe and sound in his arms, far away from the nightmare this trip had become.

"Henry," she said, and he immediately knew that something wasn't right.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," she said. "Well, mostly, at least."

"What does that mean?" Henry wasted no time in asking. "You're safe, right?"

"I'm safe," she assured him. "I'm on the plane, I'm coming home."

"Already?" he asked "Why? What happened?"

Elizabeth glanced out the window, but she wasn't really seeing what was beyond the glass. Instead, she saw the scene with Andrada playing out in front of her, and she flexed her fingers, wincing at the pain she felt in response.

"Baby, talk to me," Henry was pleading on the phone.

"I had an altercation with Andrada," she admitted.

"What kind of altercation?" he asked cautiously.

"He touched me," she said, words coming out in a rush. "Groped me."

"He did _what?_ " Henry asked, voice suddenly no longer gentle and pleading, but sharp and low. Dangerous, even. Elizabeth closed her eyes.

"I punched him," she said.

"You punched him?" he repeated.

"Mmhmm."

"Good," Henry replied fervently. "Good, you should have punched him. I hope you broke his nose."

She had to laugh a little bit at that.

"I did," she said.

"Good."

There was a beat of silence.

"Are you okay?" Henry asked softly, his tone having returned to the gentle tone that he had been using before.

"I think so," she answered, voice shaking just enough to worry her husband.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that, Elizabeth," he told her sincerely, and she felt the ghost of a smile play over her features.

"I know," she replied, and she did; that was one of the many wonderful things about Henry. She always knew that he meant it when he said things like that to her. That he would've given anything to have been there to protect her or to break Andrada's nose himself, regardless of the fact that he knew she was capable of it herself. Being with Henry had always made Elizabeth feel safe, and that was why. He'd go to the ends of the earth to protect her, but he knew that she could take care of herself. They'd struck a perfect balance, somehow, and she counted herself lucky to spend her days at his side.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked.

"Mostly," she sighed. "Kind of shaken up."

"I wish I could be there with you," he said, and she smiled faintly at the words. She'd been reluctant to call, not wanting to talk about it, but now that she could hear Henry's voice in her ear, she was glad that she had.

"I know, me too," she replied.

"So is that why you're coming home?" he asked, and she laughed mirthlessly.

"No, that would be because we were kicked out," she replied.

"What?"

"Andrada sent military to escort Blake and I out, as well as ordering American armed forces out," she told him.

Henry sighed; he didn't need to speak to convey his feelings on that.

"You and Blake are on your way home, then?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Come home soon and safely, okay?" he said quietly. She could have cried at the soft way he spoke to her, as if he was desperate to be with her and knew he couldn't be. All of which, she reminded herself, was more than likely true. She was just as desperate as he was, and found herself impatiently blinking back tears.

"I will," she said instead.

"Babe, you know I love you right?" he asked.

"I know," she said. "I love you, too."

There was a hesitant pause; Henry was reluctant to hang up.

"I'm okay, Henry," she said, knowing that was what he was hesitating about.

"Are you?" he asked.

"It could have been much worse, and I'm a little shaken, but I promise I'm okay."

"Okay," Henry sighed. "I'll see you soon, babe."

"Henry?" she asked.

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to just...stay on the phone for a little bit?" she asked, gazing out the window. Normally, she was very independent, but something about the idea of hanging up with Henry and replacing the distance between them set her on edge just then.

"Yes," Henry sighed, and she laughed lightly at the obvious relief in his tone. Settling back into her seat, she closed her eyes.

"Tell me about your day," she said.

"It was boring," he prefaced.

"Perfect," Elizabeth sighed.

She desperately wanted to be in his warm, safe embrace, but for now, she decided as his voice filtered into her consciousness and calmed her, this would be enough.


	45. Divinity

**Prompt: One of the kids has a crisis of faith, leading to a heart-to-heart with Henry at his favorite church.**

Alison, from the time she was a little girl, had been the only one of the McCord children who was interested in Henry's Catholicism. It had begun with her enchantment with the churches, temples, and cathedrals he liked to take her to. She had countless fond memories of walking through various houses of worship with her dad, his hand holding hers as he pointed out to her all the stories that were told in the stained glass windows. She'd been enamored with the buildings themselves, but equally so with the reverence with which her father spoke of it all. There was something achingly familiar to Alison about those places, something that drew her in inexplicably and somehow felt like home. She felt a certain kind of peace in those places that she had never managed to find anywhere else. It had always been a comfort to her, not to mention the bond that it had formed between she and her dad. She treasured that; as the middle child, there had been occasions on which Alison felt left out. But this was one thing that was just for her and Henry. Neither Stevie nor Jason had ever felt the way she did about it, both of them tending to favor their mother's worldview instead.

Now, however, Alison found herself feeling lost. She'd always believed in God, but now...well, now she wasn't sure. It was frustrating, because she couldn't say what had triggered it or why she was feeling this way. She supposed it could be chalked up to growing up. Going to college had offered her a different view on the world in a lot of ways, and seeing Lucinda struggling had shaken her. She'd begun to question it all, including the God she had believed in ever since Henry had first explained it all to her in the back pew of a cavernous church that she'd been enchanted by at the age of five. She'd far from understood it, but it had all spoken to her in a language of the heart, a language that she'd never been taught but somehow inherently understood. Until now, when suddenly it all felt strange and foreign, leaving her to feel adrift and untethered.

Which, she supposed, was why her Dad had brought her here, to his favorite church, the very same one where they had sat so long ago in the back pew, with Henry explaining his beliefs to her and Alison listening raptly. Now, he glanced over at her in the silence, not yet sure he should speak. Henry lit his candles quietly, and when he offered them to Alison, she hesitated, and then shook her head. Henry took it in stride, finished what he'd been doing, and then moved to sit in one of the empty pews about halfway back, Alison at his side. They sat there together in silence for a little while, and then Alison spoke.

"What if I don't believe in God anymore?" she asked. Henry, face betraying nothing, looked over at her.

"What if you don't?" he asked back.

She hesitated.

"Will you be disappointed?" she asked.

"Will it be a decision you came to because of you, in your heart, and not because of the influence of someone else?" Henry asked, meeting her dark eyes. She nodded.

"Then no," he answered.

"Well, what if I don't know why I don't believe in God?"

"Then how do you know that you don't?" he asked, and she thought about that for a moment, turning the words over in her mind.

"I'm not sure," she admitted. Henry tilted his head back, looking up at the beams above him. He'd always loved Alison's interest in religion and faith, but he certainly wasn't going to fault her if she didn't believe in the same things that he did. He'd never felt it important to force upon anyone, as evidenced by his relationship with his wife and their other two children.

"What if I mess up, though?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

Alison sighed.

"I mean, what if I decide I'm done with it and then later it turns out you were right all along, and I had it right to begin with, and then I've messed it up?" she asked, looking in that moment for all the world like the same wide-eyed child he'd brought here so long ago.

"Oh, honey, I don't think it really works that way," he said.

"You don't?" she asked.

"I think there's more to God than churches and teachings," Henry replied. "You know, I've studied countless religions and ethical codes," he began, "and sometimes they conflict. That was hard for me at first."

"But now?" Alison ventured cautiously, and her dad smiled.

"Now, I think God is something beyond what any of us are able to comprehend. I think your relationship with God is something divine in itself, and not something you're going to figure out before you're twenty. Probably not something you're going to figure out, ever."

"Ever?" Alison asked, and Henry chuckled as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"Well, I haven't," he said. "So probably not."

Alison found herself comforted by this knowledge, that her dad's relationship with God was just as complex as her own, that he, too, sometimes found himself unsure.

"So it's okay that I'm not sure?" she asked, and Henry kissed her head.

"I think it's totally okay that you're not sure," he said. That was a relief to Alison on many levels; she relaxed slightly against Henry and looked around.

"It's beautiful here still, isn't it?" he asked, and Alison smiled.

"Yeah, it is," she agreed.

"Ali?" he said softly, and she looked over at him to find him smiling reassuringly.

"You're going to find that peace again," he said, and he sounded so sure of himself that she, too, had to believe that, if only for that moment, there in that sacred place with him at her side.


	46. Day One

**Prompt: The McCord family moving into the house in DC**

"Alison, honey, can you please put your phone down for a minute?" Henry asked his younger daughter, his tone bordering on pleading. Alison sighed dramatically and pocketed her phone.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Henry said, briefly wrapping her in a hug. "Mom needs help with the last of the boxes, okay?"

"I need help with the fact that my life is in shambles," she muttered, but still she headed outside the new house to help Elizabeth. Henry sighed, shaking his head. He knew Alison was the most upset out of them all about having to move to DC, but her teenage angst was definitely wearing on him in combination with the overall stress of any move. Looking up, he watched Elizabeth, dressed in jeans and a baby blue linen button down, sleeves rolled up to her elbows, as she maneuvered a box into the house. Her blonde locks of hair were pulled up into a ponytail, and stray strands were escaping around her neck and ears. She looked up and smiled at him, and Henry's heart skipped a beat in his chest.

He smiled back at her, stepping in front of her as she walked through the hallway.

"Hi," she laughed, looking up at him as he rested his hand on her hip, drawing her in a little bit closer. Seeing her like this made him recall all the times they'd moved before, the excitement that had come with some of those moves and the sadness of others. He supposed this move was a mix of both.

"Hi," he replied, looking down at her with eyes that spoke volumes about about his love for her. She could see it all written there, the desire and the joy at just having her there in front of him. That was something she'd never tire of, that look in his hazel eyes that made her feel wanted and adored in an instant.

"Can I help you with that?" he asked, hands covering hers on either side of the box. She tilted her head as she looked up at him and smiled.

"I get the feeling that the box isn't what you'd really like to be helping me with," she flirted, raising her eyebrows at him. He smiled and leaned in to kiss her cheek, lips brushing against her jaw as she fought a smile.

"I can think of a lot of things I'd rather be helping you with," he whispered, and she couldn't hold back her smile anymore at that.

"God, get a room," Jason groaned as he walked by them. Elizabeth rolled her eyes as Henry took the box from her.

"We have one," Henry reminded him. "In fact, we have all of these rooms. You just happen to live here."

Jason scoffed, shaking his head, and Henry shot his wife a smile.

"Aren't teenagers great?" he asked, and she laughed.

"Hey, Ali," Elizabeth said, running a hand over her daughter's dark locks of hair. Alison looked up at her and Elizabeth sighed at the look on her middle child's face.

"Have you guys set up the WiFi yet?" Alison asked. Elizabeth glanced over at Henry, who rolled his eyes.

"Honey, we just got here," he called to Alison.

"I know, but...it's kind of important," she replied.

"We'll work on that, okay?" Elizabeth replied. She and Henry exchanged a wordless look and Henry sighed as he started working on appeasing their dramatic teenage daughter with internet access.

"Mom!" Elizabeth heard from upstairs, and she turned away with a brush of her hand over her husband's shoulder. By the time she returned from dealing with Jason's crisis which hadn't been crisis material at all, Henry had nearly managed the internet setup.

"I'm impressed, babe," she said lightly as she leaned over from behind him, arms wrapped around his shoulders with her chin resting on his head.

"Yeah, I manage," he chuckled. He turned his head and kissed the exposed inside of her wrist before dropping his head back to look up at her.

"Need a password," he said.

"Oh, I don't know," she groaned.

"I do," came Jason's voice from the stairs. They both looked over at him expectantly.

"Professor Whiskers RIP," he said, and Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

"You know we're sorry about Professor Whiskers, right?" she asked her son, who shrugged.

"Doesn't really make him alive, does it?" he asked, and Henry chuckled.

"Professor Whiskers RIP," he mumbled under his breath as he typed on the computer in front of him. Elizabeth laughed.

"You're actually using that?" she asked. Henry nodded.

"We're going to remember it, aren't we?" he asked rhetorically, and Elizabeth had to admit that he had a point with that.

"Fair enough," she acquiesced.

"Alright, Ali," Henry called. "We're online."

"Great," she said as she looked up from the screen of her phone. "What's the password so I can stop using my data?"

"You've been using your data this whole time?" Elizabeth asked, but Henry ignored that track of questioning and repeated the password to their middle child, who made a face. Clearly she had not been listening to their conversation at all.

"Just accept it," Elizabeth implored, and Alison shrugged her shoulders, breezing past them up the stairs.

"Oh god, Henry, I hate teenage angst," Elizabeth breathed as she dropped her head to his shoulder. Upstairs, the sound of the children bickering could be heard faintly. Henry laughed, turning around to pull Elizabeth from her standing position so that she was sitting on his lap instead. She smiled at him as his fingers tangled in her ponytail.

"You're the one who wanted to go for three," he remarked, and she laughed at the running joke. She glanced back over her shoulder as he played with the ends of her hair.

"So is the ponytail thing still hot?" she asked. "Or is it time to retire it?" She leaned her head back and Henry, laughing, leaned in and trailed kisses along her cheek and jaw, down onto her neck.

"Never," he began against the shell of her ear in a low voice, " _ever_ , retire the ponytail."

She laughed and pressed her lips to his, lingering longer than was necessary to pull his bottom lip between her teeth.

When they pulled apart, she bit her lip and glanced around at the house.

"What do you say," she began, "we head upstairs and stick to tradition?"

Henry grinned at her.

"I think we have to," he replied. "I mean, we have christened every other house on day one." She smiled, stood, and offered her hand to him. He smiled back at her as he took it and followed her through the maze of boxes and up the stairs to their new master bedroom.


	47. The New House Tradition

**Prompt: A continuation of Day One in which we see what happens once Henry and Elizabeth go upstairs.**

Hand in hand, Elizabeth and Henry slipped through the hallway and into the bedroom. There were boxes everywhere here as well, but it didn't matter. They could deal with those later. The important factor was that the movers had set up all of their furniture, bed included. Henry pulled Elizabeth into the bedroom and turned her so that her back was against the door, which closed with a soft snap.

"Lock that," she mumbled against him, and he turned the lock with a click. His hands had settled on her hips and as his fingers tugged at the hem of her linen shirt, his lips found hers. He ran his tongue along the surface of her bottom lip and she parted her mouth enough to allow his tongue access. It scraped lightly against her teeth and she leaned into the kiss. Henry's hands found the buttons of her shirt and he began to undo them one by one. There had been times in which Elizabeth had lacked the patience for such careful undressing, but not today. Today was special, and Henry knew that slow was exactly the pace at which to take it. He knew her well, and in that moment she reveled in that knowledge. She pulled at the hem of his soft navy blue tee shirt, tugging it up over his head. Kiss broken by the necessity of the motion, she leaned in eagerly again and Henry chuckled lightly against her at the speed with which she returned to their makeout session. Time had not diminished their need for one another, nor their desire to be attached by a liplock at all times. Henry had thought more than a few times that he could kiss Elizabeth forever, and forget to eat, and simply die like that, locked in blissful tandem with her. Buttons undone, Henry slipped the shirt off of her shoulders and tugged at the sleeves so that the material could fall off of her. It hit the floor with the softest thump and Henry pulled himself from her to trail his lips along her cheek and down her neck to her now-bare shoulder and exposed collarbone. Elizabeth leaned her head back, ponytail colliding with the door as her hands wandered along Henry's bare chest. One hand settled on the small of her back and Henry tugged her forward, off of the door. She felt her body collide with his, bare skin of her stomach pressed against him. Henry's lips settled at the sensitive spot on her neck, his favorite place to press kisses. She inhaled sharply and felt him smile against her skin. His free hand wandered up to her bra clasp and he undid it with one hand. She laughed breathlessly.

"That's talent, McCord," she said, and he laughed, too.

"You doubted me?" he mumbled in a low voice.

"Never."

Her bra discarded on the floor, Henry's hand wandered along her side until it reached her breast, gentle caresses from familiar fingers causing Elizabeth to lean into him, skin to skin.

"Come on," he mumbled, tugging her with him as he backed over to the bed. He reluctantly tore his eyes away from her when he backed into a wayward cardboard box, suddenly reminded that he was on unfamiliar terrain. Not wanting to back them into anything else, he returned his lips to hers and spun them so that he was moving forward and she was the one walking backwards. Colliding with the bed, Elizabeth allowed Henry to lift her backwards onto the flat surface of the mattress. His hands found the waist of her jeans as he leaned over her and he undid the button quickly before pushing at the waistband where it had settled low on her hips. She lifted herself to assist him and he pushed her jeans and underwear off in one motion. Elizabeth felt a smile tug at her lips as Henry, hovering over her, trailed his lips along the smooth skin of her neck and along her chest until he reached her breast. Kisses became gentle sucking motions with his mouth and she felt a shiver run down her spine. Henry pulled her nipple into his mouth and she bit her lip at the feeling. Her hands buried themselves in her hair, lightly tugging at the barely-greying strands.

"Henry," she breathed, feeling his fingers flicker lightly against the skin of her inner thigh. She scraped her fingernails ever so lightly against the skin of his chest and watched him shiver in response to the anticipation that her action invoked. Warm, shuddering breath brushed over his skin and Henry returned his kisses to her neck. Elizabeth, growing impatient, pushed herself upward and used her momentum to flip them, so that she was hovering over him instead. He grinned up at her from where he now lay on the mattress.

"That never gets old," he admitted, and she laughed.

"Neither does this, she replied as she kissed him again. Her hands found his belt buckle and she undid it quickly, along with the button and the zipper of his jeans. Much like she had moments ago, Henry raised his hips off of the mattress and seconds later, he was free of the confining material. One of Henry's hands had found its place on her waist, and the other wandered up to her head, cupping the back of her skull as he tugged her down to meet his lips again. She smiled against him as their tongues began a tantalizing dance and the gasp that his wandering hand elicited found its way from her mouth into his. His fingers began to tug gently at her ponytail, careful not to hurt her as he worked to free her tresses from their confinement. Blonde curls tumbled over her bare shoulders as the hair tie ended up somewhere on the floor.

"I thought the ponytail was hot," she murmured.

"Oh, it is," Henry assured her. "But so is this," he continued as he ran his fingers through her hair for a moment before he flipped them over again. Her fingers ghosted over the skin of his inner thigh and she felt him tense in response, anticipation coursing through them both. She moved her fingers upward, slowly but steadily, and pressed her lips to the sensitive spot in the curve of his collarbone. He leaned into her, bracing himself above her as her fingers hit their mark and he involuntarily leaned into her touch. She smiled to herself at the eager reaction as he dropped his head, lips on her breast again. He tugged ever so gently, tongue flicking against her nipple with tantalizing rhythm as she began to move her fingers more quickly.

Suddenly, she pulled away and Henry opened his eyes, meeting her gaze. Blue eyes and hazel locked on one another, and Elizabeth blinked at him. Regaining his thoughts a little bit, Henry balanced himself differently, freeing up his hand. He trailed his fingers along the sensitive skin of her upper body, from her breast down to her stomach, and they found a home between her legs, stroking the slick heat there. He watched it unfold on her face, eyes darkening with desire as she gazed up at him. Parting her folds with practiced fingers, he found her center with the pad of his thumb and slowly began to move circles there, watching as her pupils expanded in response. He felt her fingers on his back, gradually increasing pressure as he began to rub his thumb in faster circles.

"Henry," she whined, breathy and quiet.

"Slowly," he reminded her and he watched her swallow hard in response, leaning her head back into the mattress. He continued his ministrations, and then quickly pulled back.

"Don't," she mumbled, and he was powerless to her when she looked at him like that. His hand returned to its place and he brushed rhythmically against her, taking pleasure in the way she almost subconsciously lifted her hips to meet him, increasing the contact.

He, too, was pulsing with desire. Seeing her slowly begin to unravel beneath him, alongside the touch of her fingers on his thigh, was enough to arouse him thoroughly. Her touch moved from his thigh and inward, moving slowly and applying light pressure that elicited a quiet, breathless exhale.

"Elizabeth," he managed, and she smiled as she felt his own fingers still.

"Now," she said, knowing that he would be unable to resist her insistence. Henry positioned himself above her and she parted her legs more widely to grant him access. He slid himself into her and she bit her lip.

"Quiet," he reminded her as he slowly began to move above her. She nodded, her hand on his hip guiding him as he slowly moved back and forth. He forced himself to focus, watchingher face as he moved. He leaned in and kissed her, warm and familiar. He bit her bottom lip gently and she lifted her hips, pressing herself closer to him. He pulled out of her slightly and she shook her head.

"Henry," she pleaded.

"I know," he assured her, and he did. That, she thought, was the beauty of this first day in a new house. He knew her better now than he ever had before, knew every movement and every curve of her body like the back of his own hand. He lowered his hips, more forcefully this time, and she cried out against his shoulder, the sound muffled as her warm breath spread over his skin. He felt himself inched closer by the sound, and she buried her hands in his hair.

"Elizabeth," he breathed, her name like a prayer on his lips. She pressed her hips against him and then pulled back, repeating the motion twice more. He opened his eyes in time to watch her come undone beneath him, his name escaping her perfect lips on a gasp, and the sight was his own undoing. He followed moments later with an exhale that sounded vaguely like _Elizabeth_ , and they both collapsed onto the bed, wrapped up together in a mess of tangled limbs and warm skin, sated and flushed. He looked over at her pink cheeks and bright eyes and she managed a small smile at him behind the haze of her own pleasure that still lingered in her eyes.

"Happy first day, house," she breathed, and Henry let out a breathy laugh as he kissed her. His kisses were no longer filled with passion and desire, but rather all love and gratitude for the woman in his arms.

"Happy first day, Elizabeth," he replied.

"This is going to be a good house," she sighed, eyes fluttering closed. He pressed a quick, innocent kiss to the tip of her nose.

"This is going to be a good house," he echoed.


	48. Reunited

**Prompt: Elizabeth and Henry reunite at the airport following his deployment.**

Elizabeth was nervous. She was pretty sure she shouldn't be, but she was. Maybe that was normal, and as she looked around at the other people in the surrounding area who were all waiting on their soldiers as she was waiting for hers, she thought that likely. A lot of them looked nervous, anyway, though she reasoned that could be just her own interpretation if it since she, herself, was so incredibly nervous.

It was Henry, she told herself. She had no reason to be nervous. This was her husband, and he was coming home. She should have been thrilled and she was. Of course she was. She couldn't wait to see him, having missed him terribly during his deployment. There had been times when she hadn't been sure she was going to make it to this day, standing here at the airport just minutes away from seeing Henry again. Yet now that she was here, Elizabeth found that her hands were trembling against the fabric of her baby blue sundress. It was one that she thought Henry would like, which now seemed ridiculous and she was wishing that she'd stuck with her jeans and maybe just a prettier blouse. Too late now, though, because Elizabeth had noticed that soldiers had begun to filter into the space around her. All around, families were being reunited. There was tangible joy in the air as Elizabeth reached up and tangled her fingers in the chain around her neck, taking comfort in the familiarity of the pendants that hung there as she scanned the crowd for signs of Henry.

Henry, meanwhile, was looking eagerly for Elizabeth. He was nervous, too; what if things had changed? What if it was hard for them to slip back into the routine of their marriage? What if they couldn't manage it? He tried to tell himself that none of that was anything he needed to worry about; this was Elizabeth, after all. She was his wife, and he was finally getting to see her again. He scanned the crowd for her, absentmindedly reaching up to touch the necklace that rested against the fabric of his uniform. He usually wore it on the inside, but it had made its way out during the plane ride home, as Henry had stared out the window and thought about seeing Elizabeth.

Now, his eyes caught on a head of loose blonde curls and his heart stumbled in his chest. Across the room, he saw her standing there in that blue dress and he suddenly as if he'd lost his ability to breathe. She was somehow more stunning than the vision he'd had in his head of her all these months, and the photo that was now worn on the edges from his constant pulling it out to look at it no longer seemed to do her justice. She looked up and met his eyes and suddenly, neither one of them was nervous anymore. Henry smiled as she weaved past a couple of families, each of them picking up their pace to meet in the center of the space between them.

"Elizabeth," Henry breathed as he dropped his backpack on the floor and swept her up in his arms. Elizabeth was in tears as soon as his arms were around her. No longer nervous, she found herself filled with pure, unadulterated love.

"Henry," she managed, a flood of relief and joy at being so near to him again. She held tight to him and buried her face against his neck as he held her, taking in the sweet scent of lavender shampoo that he'd missed desperately for so long. Everything felt like a tiny blessing in that moment, each of his senses overrun by all things Elizabeth, and Henry wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

Henry found that he was crying, too, months worth of emotion coursing through him now that he had her back in his arms. It was as if a switch had been flipped; with her touch came the security of home. And suddenly, he felt safe again, which was something he'd nearly forgotten how to feel.

"I missed you so much," he murmured against her, and she heard his voice break, so she pulled back to look at him through her own tears. She swiped at the tears on his cheeks with tender fingertips and smiled up at him.

"I know. I missed you too," she said. "It's okay. You're home now."

He pulled her back into his arms again and held her close, taking in every second.

"Henry, babe, you're going to have to let go if you want to go home," she laughed against his shoulder a few minutes later when he showed no signs of letting go of her anytime soon.

"Don't care," Henry mumbled, and Elizabeth laughed. The sound was like music to Henry, as the soft, familiar notes of his voice were to her.

She pulled back slightly and studied him; there was something different about him, but she was relieved to find that so far he seemed overall to be the same man she'd said goodbye to before he had left. She'd been worried about that, but he still looked at her like she'd put the stars in the sky and he still smiled at her with all the tenderness and love in the whole world, as if she were the only person on the planet with him. She rested her hand on his cheek and smiled slightly.

"You're so beautiful," he said quietly, and she laughed.

"I was regretting the dress," she admitted. "I thought maybe it was too much-"

Henry shook his head and leaned in, capturing her lips in their first kiss in months. Elizabeth, fingers wrapped around his collar, had to fight to remain standing at the torrent of emotion that his kiss brought with it. She melted into the kiss instead and Henry sighed contentedly against her. She couldn't help but smile at that, and then he was smiling too, and they both were finding it a little bit difficult to kiss like that.

She looked up at him again, ocean eyes suddenly more serious.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly, her words all in a rush as if she'd been afraid to ask. Henry smiled at her and rested his hand at the base of her skull, fingers buried in her locks of blonde hair.

"I'm okay,baby" he assured her, and with those warm hazel eyes on hers, she believed him. Neither of them were naive enough to believe that this was going to be as easy as they'd have liked it to be, but in that moment, standing together in the crowded airport, they were both pretty sure that they were going to be okay.

"Come on," Elizabeth said softly, rising up ever so slightly onto her toes to kiss him lightly. "Let's go home."


	49. Taking Her Stand

**Prompt: Henry tries to get Elizabeth to seek shelter with the rest of the cabinet, but she clings to him, bursting into tears.**

"I'm staying with my family," Elizabeth said. From behind her, Henry could hear the edge of panic and fear in her voice that was inaudible to anyone else. He heard it, though, because he knew her better than anyone ever had..

"Ma'am, we've been given orders to bring you to safety," came the stern answer from her security guys.

"Well, I'm not going," she answered. To the security detail that was trying to usher her away from them, she sounded steady and strong, but Henry knew better. She was scared, and he couldn't help but think that in her fear, she probably wasn't thinking clearly. He wanted her to stay, too, but he knew he had to give it a shot. If she'd been thinking more clearly, she might want to go, and as her husband, he wanted her to stay but as the man beside the woman, he knew he had to be sure.

"Wait," Henry said, taking one step forward. The security guys looked over at him, obediently standing still as his wife glanced back at him.

"Elizabeth," he began, trying not to focus on the panic that flashed across her face. "Baby, maybe you should go," he suggested, his heart shattering even as he said it.

"What?" she asked.

"If something happens, they're going to need you safe," he reasoned. "You're one of the most important people on the planet, Elizabeth, they're going to need your help."

There was a moment of silence, and then with no warning, Elizabeth had burst into tears, sobs wracking her body.

"I can't go," she cried. "I can't, Henry, I won't!"

Henry stepped forward and pulled her against his chest. She crumbled against him in a way Henry hadn't seen in years, or possibly even decades. He was scared, too, but in that moment with her sobbing against his chest, all he could think about was keeping her there with him. He'd had a halfhearted defense in the first place; the last thing he wanted was for her to be seperated from them. He'd been willing to say it, but now that she'd reacted so strongly, Henry knew it wasn't happening.

"Henry," she cried, fingers wrapped around the fabric of his shirt, "I can't. I can't."

"Okay," he breathed as he pulled her tightly against him. "Okay, baby, it's okay. Take it easy, sweetheart, it's okay."

"I won't go," she whimpered as she clung to him. "I would do a lot of things but I won't leave you and the kids, not like this. Not now."

"I know," Henry assured her. "I know, baby. It's alright."

"They're trying to make me go, and I know I'm supposed to but I just- I won't- I have to stay here," she breathed, struggling to get her words out around her shuddering breaths and the sobs that tore air from her lungs.

"Hey, hey, take it easy," Henry urged. "Baby, it's okay. You don't have to go. It's alright. Nobody's going to force you to leave, okay? It's going to be okay."

"Why would you ask me to go?" she asked, and he felt himself crumble inside at the way she looked at him.

"Oh, Elizabeth," he sighed. "I don't know. I just thought- I don't know." He rubbed her back soothingly and kissed the tp of her head.

"It's okay," he assured her. "Nobody is going anywhere." She nodded silently against him. In that moment, faced with not only her own mortality, or even Henry's, but also that of her children, she couldn't imagine leaving. Not for her country, not for anything. All she wanted was to be right there with them. If the world was going to fall apart, she was going down at Henry's side, arms around her kids.

"I can't let you and the kids weather this alone, not knowing if-" she began, her voice breaking. Henry closed his eyes briefly at the implication.

"Elizabeth, look at me," he said, tilting her head up so that their eyes could meet, two equally intense gazes meeting across the space between them.

"It's okay," he said. "I get it, babe. I wouldn't be able to walk away either." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "We're in this together," he said. "And we'll stay here with the kids. Team McCord, right?"

Elizabeth nodded, biting back tears again.

"Team McCord," she echoed shakily. He nodded, and kissed her forehead.

"Whatever happens, we're right here together," he assured her. She nodded and turned away from him, squaring her shoulders.

"I'm staying with my family," she said to her security and this time, her voice was steady as she grasped Henry's hand in her own. Matt nodded and she met his gaze.

"Thank you for taking such good care of me, Matt," she said. He nodded.

"We're staying," he said firmly.

"No, you guys go on," she began.

"All due respect, ma'am, this is where we stand. It's our job to protect you right up until the end, and that's what we'll do."

Silent understanding passed between them and she nodded in acquiescence.

"Let's just keep hoping and praying we all make it out of this, okay?" she said.

"You've got it, ma'am," Matt said, and with that Elizabeth turned to her husband, swiping at the remaining tears on her cheeks.

"Let's go be with the kids," she said, and Henry squeezed her hand lightly as they walked hand-in-hand back inside to join the rest of team McCord for what they all knew had the potential to be the last time.


	50. Feels Like Home

**Prompt: Elizabeth really wants to be held by Henry on the night of the fight in Ghost Detainee, so she goes to the couch where he's sleeping and snuggles in with him.**

Elizabeth sighed, and the sound drifted through the lonely darkness of her bedroom. She'd always loved this house, and this bedroom. It usually felt so much like home to her, but now, she found that it really didn't. It felt empty and cold, and it occurred to her then that what had felt like home about it had been not the room at all, but rather the man that she shared it with. Henry could make anywhere feel like home to her, and now as she sat there without him, her heart ached in her chest. She thought back on their fight, the harsh words exchanged between them, and her retreat to the bedroom. He was sleeping on the couch, and she hated that. She hated being apart from him and the distance it created in more than physical space. Thinking of her horse and the vet visit that was looming the following morning, along with all the stress she was under at work and the romantic weekend that was now in shambles, Elizabeth wanted nothing more than to curl up with Henry and let him hold her. Insecurity crept in n her then, as she wondered how he'd react if she just...went to lie with him. These were old insecurities, but in that moment, all alone in the darkness of the bedroom, they seemed impossible to overcome. She could no more shake the desire to be with Henry, though, so she slipped out of the bedroom and crept quietly through the near-empty house to the living room, where she found Henry sleeping on the couch. She wondered fleetingly if it meant anything about the state of their marriage that he was able to sleep while she was so tormented that she could barely close her eyes. She shook that thought off as best she could, though, and perched herself on the edge of the couch in the half-light, heart pounding as her mind raced with all the things he might say to her if he awoke and found her there. It was irrational, she told herself...but was it? Or was it entirely possible that things really were falling apart and this was going to be the final straw that broke them? She liked to think that nothing ever could, but she remembered the way he'd looked at her earlier and she wasn't so sure.

She reached out and brushed her fingers lightly through his hair. Henry, not normally a light sleeper, stirred at her touch and Elizabeth drew her hand back in slight panic. Without opening his eyes, Henry reached out for her, his uncoordinated, half-asleep touch falling on her upper thigh.

"Elizabeth," he murmured, soft and familiar, not quite awake but present enough to know her, to reach for her, to want to be close to her. Tears stung the backs of her eyes, and she felt ridiculous as she swiped furiously at them when they began to stream down her cheeks. She took a shuddering breath and Henry opened his eyes, blinking at her with concern in the half light.

"Baby, are you okay?" he asked. She shook her head and Henry reached out to her, tugging gently until she was settled on the couch next to him, her head buried against his neck.

"I didn't think you'd want me to-" she began, breaking off in embarrassment. She hated when her old insecurities interfered with the confidence she'd gained.

"Come here," Henry murmured, drawing her in closer. His voice was warm and gravelly with sleep, and the sound of it alone calmed her a little bit. Tears continued to fall though, a combination of her relief that he wasn't sending her away and the stress she was under manifesting itself.

"It's just a fight, babe," he said softly. "It's hard right now, but I always want to be with you. It's okay."

His words, while they made her feel better, seemed to only make her cry more. She wrapped her fingers around the chain that hung on his neck and he ran his hand along her spine.

"It's okay, sweetheart," he murmured in her ear. "I've got you."

"I hate fighting with you," she mumbled.

"I know," he sighed. "I hate it, too."

"Are we still fighting?" she asked in a small voice, and Henry sighed, his breath ghosting over her skin. She shivered and he pulled a blanket from the back of the couch, draping it over her and tenderly wrapping it around her.

"Yes," he began, "but not right now."

She could hear the sorrow in his voice, but there was love there too, and when she glanced up at him, it was that love which prevailed in his hazel eyes.

"It's okay, babe," he sighed softly, leaning in to press his lips to her forehead. "Just sleep for now, okay?"

"I'm sorry I woke you up," she breathed. "I just couldn't sleep up there by myself, thinking about you and Buttercup and work and everything else." Henry chuckled lightly, the sound reverberating through his chest, where her hand was resting, fingers still playing with his necklace.

"It's okay," he said. "I wasn't sleeping too well myself."

"You looked like you were," she whispered.

"I wasn't," he assured her, ghosting his lips over her temple and nuzzling his nose against her hair. "I never do. Not without you."

That in itself was somewhat comforting to her.

"Henry," she began, "we're going to be okay, right?"

"Of course," he said, sounding much more confident than she felt. "We're going to be fine, Elizabeth. It's just going to take some time, okay?"

She nodded against him and he brought his hand up to cover hers on his chest. She could feel his heartbeat beneath her palm, the steady beat assuring her that he was there with her, just as he'd always been.

"Close your eyes, baby," he whispered. "Let's both get some sleep, alright?"

"I love you, Henry," she breathed.

"I know," he said. "I love you, too."

"Do you?" she whispered, looking up at him and immediately regretting having asked. But as he met her eyes, sparkling ocean blue hiding all her insecurity, he understood. He knew her like no one else, and he knew that there was no malice or manipulation behind her question.

"I do," he assured her. "More than anything in the world." He combed his fingers through her hair and she tangled her fingers in his.

"Thank you," she said.

"For what?"

She met his eyes in the dim light and the ghost of a smile flickered over her features.

"For being home," she breathed, and while it didn't really make sense, Henry knew what she meant. She was home to him too; as long as she was next to him, he felt as if he was right where he belonged. Even now, with all the tension between them, he looked down at her and a certain calm washed over him. No matter what was going on between them, that feeling still persisted. It had been how he'd known she was the girl for him all those years before, and it was what kept him at her side during their most intense moments.

"Sleep, Elizabeth," he murmured. "I'll be here."

She closed her eyes and slowly drifted off to sleep, wrapped in Henry's arms, and feeling like home.


	51. After Effects

**Prompt: One of the kids is on the verge of a panic attack and it's Elizabeth who helps them.**

 **This is another take on what could have (should have?) happened in Montreal/after Montreal.**

Elizabeth looked over at Jason, spread out across the foot of his parents' bed, asleep. She thought back on those moments of panic, searching for her son in a haze of smoke and a crowd of panicked people. Her security detail had been livid, but Elizabeth hadn't cared. All she could think about was getting to Jason. And she had- she'd found him huddled in a corner with his girlfriend, and she'd recognized the terror in his eyes as he clung to her.

" _I know,"_ she had said to him then. " _I know, baby, it's okay. You're safe."_

Now, they were home safely, and the danger was gone, and her baby was sleeping right there in front of her. Yet there remained in her chest a stubborn knot of fear. She supposed it would fade with time, but for now she couldn't take her eyes off of Jason. She couldn't imagine what she would've done if he'd been hurt, or worse. She shivered at the thought, and wished Henry were next to her. He was just downstairs, though, with Stevie and Alison. Everyone had been shaken by what could have happened to Jason, and the girls needed Henry as much as Elizabeth needed to be with Jason just then.

As she watched him, thoughts of Henry were pushed out of her mind by the way that Jason began to curl in on himself in his sleep. His peaceful expression was replaced by one of fear and his breathing had become sharp and shallow.

"Jason," Elizabeth said, reaching out to shake him gently. "Jace, wake up."

He slowly rose to consciousness, and when he did he scrambled to sit up, looking around wildly. He was not calmed by being brought out of whatever nightmare he'd been in, but rather seemed to become more agitated. He gasped for air and looked around at her in panic. Elizabeth recognized it in an instant, and her heart seemed to shatter in her chest. This was not something she had ever wanted to see her children go through, following her own struggle after Iran.

"Jason, look at me," she said calmly.

"Mom," he gasped, reaching for her. She took his hand and his fingers tightened around hers.

"I'm right here," she assured him. "You're okay, Jace. You're home and you're safe, okay? Just focus on breathing."

"I can't- Mom," he breathed, his voice high pitched and breathy.

"I know, baby. You're okay. Just take it easy, alright? In and out, Jace," she reminded him. She wanted to cry, watching it all unfold on his face. But instead, she just held his hand and reminded him to breathe.

"I couldn't- I was trying to-" he attempted to explain.

"Shh," she soothed. "I know. I know. It's okay. Just breathe for now, alright?"

He let out a choked sob that made Elizabeth want to never let go of him, but she swallowed hard and squeezed his hand.

"It's okay, sweetheart," she said. "I'm right here, okay? I've got you."

He was still struggling to breathe, thought not quite so much so, and as he reached for her, she was reminded not for the first time that day of how young he still was. She cradled him against her like she had when he'd been a little boy with skinned knees and ran her fingers through his hair.

"Shh," she murmured to him. "It's okay. I've got you."

Jason took a shuddering breath.

"I was trying to get to you and Piper was screaming and- I was so scared," he breathed, so quietly that she almost didn't hear him. She held him a little bit tighter.

"I know," she assured him. "It's okay, Jace. You're home now, it's going to be okay."

She held him in the silence for a while as his breathing evened out.

"Close your eyes, Jace," she said softly as she watched him slowly start to fall asleep. He looked up at her, looking scared, and she kissed his forehead.

"It's okay," she assured him. "I've got you, sweetheart, you're okay." A few minutes later, he fell asleep with his head on her shoulder for the first time in years. That's how Henry found them an hour later, and as he settled next to them with his arm around Elizabeth, he found himself saying a little prayer of thanks that they'd both made it home safe and sound.

"Is he okay?" Henry breathed. Elizabeth sighed.

"He had a panic attack," she said, and Henry felt that in his chest just as she had.

"Oh, Elizabeth," Henry sighed as he brushed his fingers lightly over their teenage son's cheek. Jason was difficult now, but as a little boy, he'd been nearly more sensitive than Alison, and such a mama's boy. He'd clung to Elizabeth then as he was now, and Henry had to swallow the lump in his throat at the idea of seeing Jason as he'd seen Elizabeth when she struggled with panic attacks herself. She still had them occasionally; in fact, earlier in the day he'd wondered if they'd be facing that later, once the lights went out and it was just the two of them.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly. She glanced back at him.

"No," she admitted. "I hate that he has to go through this, Henry, it just kills me."

"I know, babe," he said, and she knew that he really did. This was as hard for him as it was for her, and that was somewhat comforting for her, the knowledge that they were weathering it together. It was at once the best and worst part of parenting for Elizabeth.

"He'll be okay," Henry murmured in her ear as they both looked down at Jason.

"We all will," he added. And Elizabeth decided right then that she was choosing to believe that he was right.


	52. Backless

**Prompt: The kids still don't know about the scar on Elizabeth's back, and she'd like to keep it that way, but Alison has designed the perfect dress for her, and if she wears it, the truth is coming out.**

Elizabeth sat on the edge of her bed and looked at her inauguration dress. That phrase still did not entirely feel real. She could barely get her head around it, even after months of campaigning and everything that had come with winning the election. It had been a whirlwind, and it still was. She was still unsure, and she thought that couldn't be good, but Henry said it was normal. For the time being, anyway, that was not her concern. It was almost a relief to have something different to worry about for a little while. Almost.

Henry stepped out of the bathroom, toothbrush in his mouth and hair a mess, looking between her and the dress as he leaned against the doorframe.

"What's wrong?" he asked. Elizabeth sighed.

"It's this dress," she answered. Henry frowned. He ducked back into the bathroom, then reappeared sans toothbrush.

"I thought you liked it, you said it was perfect," he reminded her, and she nodded her head.

"I did, and it is," she intoned with a shake of her head. "It's gorgeous, Ali blew it out of the water."

"Then...what's the issue?" Henry asked.

"It's backless," Elizabeth answered. "Like...really backless."

Henry looked confused.

"What's wrong with backless?" he asked her.

"It's going to show my scar," she said, and suddenly understanding washed over his face. He sat down next to her, gazing up at the dress where it hung. The color, sky blue, was perfect, and the silhouette was both elegant and perfect for Elizabeth's figure. It spoke of power and strength and softness; everything that Elizabeth was. She was right; Alison had blown it out of the water. Henry, glancing over at his wife, knew from the look in her eyes that there was no way she was going to wear anything but that dress. Alison having designed it for her meant too much to her; she'd never be able to say no to it. She'd barely managed to say no to the lurid one Alison had picked out for the last inauguration. Henry was still not convinced that she wouldn't have ended up wearing it had Alison not backtracked herself.

Henry reached out and took his wife's hand, tangling his fingers with hers.

"Are you ready?" he asked, and she looked over to meet his gaze.

"I guess I have to be," she said with a small smile, and Henry raised her hand to his lips, pressing a light kiss against her knuckles.

"Come on," he said as he stood. "The girls are waiting on you to try it on. I'll help you zip."

Elizabeth managed a smile at that.

"You sure you're not just trying to get a good view of my ass?" she asked, and Henry grinned.

"Plead the fifth," he replied, and she laughed. He smiled, heartened by the sound.

A few minutes later, with Elizabeth zipped into the dress, Henry felt his breath hitch. Looking at her just then, he flashed back to every gorgeous dress she'd ever worn and he decided in that moment that this was by far the best one.

"What do you think?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder at him.

"Baby, you have never looked more stunning," he said sincerely. He leaned in, hands on her hips, and pressed his lips to the curve of her neck. She felt her features being tugged into a small smile at the contact.

"Never?" she echoed.

"Well," Henry hedged, "probably not _never_. I tend to prefer you with no clothes. Or in those low rise jeans. But as far as formal dresses go, this one takes the cake."

Elizabeth laughed, but she pulled away from him and turned, her back to the mirror. She looked over her shoulder and Henry saw her eyes cast down to the exposed skin on her lower back. He looked, too, and could see plainly the scar that he'd gotten used to in the last few years since she'd come back from Iran with it. He barely noticed it now, and when he did, it was with deepest gratitude. He sometimes ran his fingers over it with a little prayer of thanks for whatever had brought her home to him with that scar.

"You know that scar is beautiful, right?" he asked. Elizabeth glanced at him and he nodded.

"It is," he said. She nodded her head.

"I believe you," she assured him. "But that's not what this is about."

"I know," he said. "But I wanted to make sure you knew."

"Alright, come on," she said. "Let's get this over with."

Downstairs, Henry leaned over the railing while Elizabeth stood at the top. She was nervous, but there was an undeniable excitement there was glad to be able to show her daughter this dress, to share this moment with them.

"You guys ready?" he asked, and Elizabeth smiled at their enthusiastic response. Henry turned back to smile at her, reassurance and encouragement in his hazel eyes. He held out his hand to her, and she slowly descended the stairs, taking his outstretched hand as soon as she was close enough to do so. There were audible gasps from all three McCord children as Elizabeth came into view, and Henry smiled at the way her eyes lit up as the kids reacted to her.

"Alison, that dress is incredible," Stevie said to her sister.

"Wow," Jason said. Elizabeth grinned. Even her angsty teenage boy was impressed.

"Mom, you look amazing," Alison squealed, clapping her hands. Henry held Elizabeth's hand as they stood side by side on the wide lower landing. Looking up at them, Stevie smiled brightly.

"What, Stevie?" Elizabeth asked. Stevie leaned on the railing.

"You look like the President of the United States," she said, and Elizabeth felt her heart flutter in her chest. Henry smiled, and when Elizabeth looked over at him, his eyes spoke to her- _it's time_. She nodded, and Henry's fingers caressed the inside of her wrist as he drew her in and kissed her cheek before he slowly spun her in a circle.

Silence fell among her children with her back to them and Elizabeth tightened her hold on her husband's fingers.

Jason was the one to break the quiet.

"What is that?" he asked. Elizabeth glanced back at him, finding all three sets of eyes upon the scar on her back.

"Mom, are you okay?" Alison asked, her voice higher than usual.

"How old is that scar?" Stevie inquired.

Elizabeth turned away from them with a deep breath.

"Guys," Henry said in a calming voice that drew all of their gazes to their father. "It's alright. It's just a scar."

"From what?" Stevie asked.

Elizabeth turned back around to face them.

"From Iran," she said.

"You got hurt in Iran?" Alison asked, looking between her dad and her siblings.

"Yes," Elizabeth answered. "I did."

She descended the last couple of stairs and stood among her children, looking around at all of them.

"The coup in Iran affected me in a lot of ways, and this injury was the least of them. It wasn't something I felt like I needed to share, and I probably wouldn't have if not for this dress," she said.

"Mom, I'm so sorry," Alison began. "I didn't realize-"

"No, baby," Elizabeth interrupted, reaching out to wrap her arm around her middle child. "Don't feel badly, okay? This dress is absolutely perfect, and I'm so proud that I get to wear it. It was time for me to face that part of my story. It's time."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Jason asked. Elizabeth smiled at him.

"Because I wanted to protect you. Because I wanted to protect myself. But, as your dad reminded me, that scar is a beautiful thing."

"How?" Jason asked.

"It's a reminder. A reminder that I'm home with all of you, that it all worked out okay and I'm stronger for it."

Stevie stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her mother.

"You okay?" Elizabeth asked, feeling her daughter nod against her.

"Mom," she began as she pulled away, blue eyes meeting blue, "you are going to be the most kickass first female President."

As Henry laughed and Elizabeth looked back to meet his gaze, she suddenly didn't mind showing her scar at all.


	53. Lookalikes

**Prompt: Elizabeth has thought each of their babies looks like Henry, but he hasn't agreed...until little Jason comes along.**

 _1994_

Elizabeth cradled her newborn daughter in her arms, gazing down at the little face that had changed her life in an instant. She couldn't take her eyes off of baby Stephanie, who was gazing curiously back up at her, all wide blue eyes and perfect little features. Elizabeth had read that babies with blue eyes at birth could end up with other eye colors later on, and she was quite convinced that would be the case with her new daughter. Looking down at her, and then over at Henry where he sat next to the bed, Elizabeth thought the resemblance was striking.

Henry, however, did not agree.

"I still think she looks just like you," Elizabeth said quietly. Henry chuckled under his breath and looked up at her as he shook his head.

"Babe, I don't know what baby you're looking at, but that one looks just like you," he said.

"I mean, yeah she's got blue eyes but they say a lot of babies have blue eyes and I'll bet they turn out like yours," she said. Henry smiled as he sat down next to her and looked down at little Stevie.

"Look at that nose," he said softly. "And those perfect little lips and this beautiful blonde hair," he said, brushing his fingers over her strands of fair, soft, baby hair. "She's like a little Elizabeth. Yeah. You look just like your mama, don't you, little girl?" Stevie wrapped her tiny fingers around Henry's as if in response and he smiled at Elizabeth.

"See?" he said. "She agrees with me."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

"Such a Daddy's girl already," she said softly.

 _1999_

Henry was holding the baby, but Elizabeth still couldn't keep her eyes off of her. Henry's mom was in town to watch Stevie, and while Elizabeth couldn't wait for their older daughter to meet her new baby sister, she was enjoying the time with just Henry and baby Alison. She'd voiced to Henry multiple times over the last few months her determination to make sure that the new baby didn't ever feel short changed by the fact that she was younger. Henry agreed; they both wanted to make sure that baby McCord number two got just as much attention as her big sister. Twelve hours in, they were doing great so far.

"She looks like you," Elizabeth said, and Henry rolled his eyes as he looked over at her.

"This again?" he asked. She nodded.

"Come on, Henry, look at her," she said. They both looked down at the infant in Henry's arms. She had tiny wisps of hair, darker than her sister's though not by a lot. Her eyes, unlike Stevie's, which had remained blue much to Elizabeth's surprise, were dark.

"She's got dark eyes and everything," she added.

"Darker than mine," Henry reminded her. "And her hair could easily turn out blonde. Besides, look at those little lips and the expressions she's making already. She doesn't look as much like you as Stevie, I'll give you that, but she's still more Mama than Daddy. Isn't that right?" he added at Alison, who started to fuss. Elizabeth reached for her and rocked her back and forth to settle her down.

"Hi, darling," she said. "It's okay. There you go." she brushed her fingertips over Alison's cheek as the infant settled down and stretched her tiny limbs. "Can you please tell Daddy to take another look and get this through his head?" she murmured sweetly to their new baby. Henry chuckled.

"Sorry, babe, Daddy's pretty stubborn too," he said.

"Don't I know it," Elizabeth muttered, but she was smiling; she wouldn't have had it any other way.

 _2001_

Henry could not take his eyes off of the baby boy in Elizabeth's arms. He was perfect, with light brown eyes and tufts of caramel-colored hair. Henry could easily recognize something so familiar in his features, and he was stunned by the knowledge that little Jason McCord looked just like his dad. Elizabeth smiled over at him, and he knew exactly what she was about to say before the words ever rose to her lips.

"You know I'm right this time," she said, and Henry laughed.

"Come on, Henry," she said. "You cannot look at that baby and tell me he doesn't look just like you."

Henry smiled as he reached out and brushed his finger over Jason's soft cheek.

"No," he admitted, "I can't really argue with you this time, babe." He held out his hands and she carefully passed the baby over to him. Henry cradled little Jason close to his chest, amazed as he always was by how small the new baby was. This time, unlike with their daughters, there was an added layer to Henry's amazement. As Jason opened his eyes, Henry marveled at the resemblance between him and their newborn son.

"Hi, sweet boy," he said softly. Elizabeth would have sworn she could feel her heart melting at the sight of the warm, sweet smile that spread over Henry's face as he looked down at their baby boy.

"Hi, it's Daddy," Henry said. "You're making Mama very happy right now, Jace. You're the baby who finally proved her right."

Elizabeth laughed and Henry smiled over at her.

"Going for three was the best decision we ever made," she sighed as Henry sat next to her and she looked over at baby Jason. Not taking his eyes off of his son's face, Henry nodded.

"You can say that again."


	54. Choices

**Prompt: One of the McCord children ends a serious relationship over something their significant other says about Henry and/or Elizabeth.**

Alison looked over at Sarah, whose long red curls were loose and escaping from her ponytail as she perched on a stool in front of a canvas that was splattered with color. Her white tank top and denim overalls were streaked with both old and new smears of paint as well, and from where Alison sat across the room, she could see a little bit of white paint in her vibrant curls. Alison had been spending increasing amounts of time at Sarah's place over the course of their relationship. Now, they might as well have been living together, and Alison had never had such a successful relationship as she'd had so far with Sarah.

"I'm a fan," she remarked as she leaned against her girlfriend, resting her chin on Sarah's shoulder just long enough to kiss her cheek. Sarah smiled at her over her shoulder as Alison stepped into the kitchen to refill her coffee.

"You're biased," Sarah replied, and Alison laughed, the melodic sound carrying across the two rooms.

"Maybe," she acquiesced. She walked back through into the living room and handed Sarah a mug of coffee.

"So I was thinking," she began as she sat down at her drawing table. "We could go and have dinner with my parents tonight."

Silence followed, and Alison glanced up to find Sarah determinedly not looking at her.

"What?" Alison asked, sweeping a strand of her dark hair out of her eyes.

"Nothing," Sarah answered dismissively.

"That wasn't nothing," Alison insisted. "What?"

Sarah sighed.

"Look, Alison, I just really don't like your parents," she admitted. Alison stared at her.

"What?"

"They're so...entitled, you know? With their fancy Georgetown house and their political ambitions, and the oppressive heterosexuality, I just...I find them a little insufferable."

"Did you just say _oppressive heterosexuality_?" Alison asked incredulously. Sarah rolled her eyes.

"They're practically making out all the time," she said.

"Yeah...but they love each other, what's wrong with that?" she asked.

"Nothing, I guess," Sarah said. "Look, that's not my main point. My point is that I find them insufferable and I just really can't handle the idea of being around them for very long."

Alison stared at her. This was an issue that she'd never had to deal with. Her dad could be long winded and her mom could be embarrassing, but they were parents. Parents were always that way. And as far as parents went, Alison had always thought hers were exceptionally good ones. They were kind and loving, they adored each other and Alison, along with her siblings. They were ambitious and strong people, with good hearts and even a sense of humor. They gave fantastic advice and they had taught Alison many things that she valued now. Looking across the room at Sarah just then, she couldn't help but see her differently.

"I don't really understand what you mean," she said. Sarah scoffed.

"You really don't see it?" she asked, looking at her girlfriend with what Alison could only identify as pity.

"No, I don't," Alison replied defensively. "Because it's not there. My parents are good people, Sarah."

"I didn't say they weren't good people. By most standards, they are. It's just that I personally find them intense and I don't like them. Listen, can we please just drop this? I don't want to fight," Sarah said. Silence fell and Sarah turned back to her painting, but Alison continued to watch her. She thought of all the times her parents had been there for her in various ways, all the things she wouldn't have made it through without them. As she viewed Sarah in the living room, she suddenly couldn't imagine continuing to be around her like this knowing that she felt so strongly against Henry and Elizabeth.

"Sarah, I don't think this is something I can just drop," Alison admitted. "They're my parents, and they're incredible people. The things they've both been through, to come out the other side of that as strong and wonderful as they are, that's impressive. _They're_ impressive, and I wouldn't be the person that I am without them." She sighed. "If you can't see that, I think it's time we take another look at this relationship."

"Are you seriously breaking up with me over your parents?" Sarah asked.

Alison met her incredulous gaze across the room.

"Yeah, I am," she said. With that, she stood and walked out of the apartment, taking just her bag with her. She could come back later to get whatever other possessions had migrated to Sarah's apartment from her own, but for now this was the last place she wanted to be.

Half an hour later, Alison found herself on the Georgetown street outside her parents' house.

"Miss McCord," the security detail said. She smiled at him as he stepped aside to let her pass and headed inside.

"Mom? Dad?" she called into the house as she hung up her coat. Meanwhile in the kitchen, Henry and Elizabeth glanced at each other in surprise at the sound of their middle child's arrival.

"Hey, Noodle!" Elizabeth said as she headed through the dining room to greet Alison in the hallway. Alison smiled at the term of endearment and let Elizabeth hug her. When they pulled apart, Henry had appeared as well and after she hugged him as well, Alison just stepped back and looked at the two of them. _How could anyone think such awful things about them?_ she wondered.

"What's wrong?" Elizabeth asked, suddenly concerned as she caught the look on Alison's face.

Alison shook her head.

"Sarah and I broke up," she admitted.

"She broke up with you?" Henry asked, eyebrows raised. Alison chuckled as she headed into the kitchen with her parents following her.

"No," she said. "I broke up with her." Alison could almost sense the look her parents shared.

"Why?" Elizabeth asked. "I thought you really liked her."

"I did," Alison answered as she turned to face them, leaning back against the kitchen island. "Until tonight, when I found out how she felt about you guys."

This time, Alison didn't have to sense the look; she could see it pass between them.

"What do you mean?" Henry asked.

"Turns out, she didn't like you," Alison said. "I suggested we do dinner with you guys tonight and she got really defensive, really fast. It was...I don't know, just some of the things she said made me realize I couldn't be in that relationship anymore." she smiled at the two of them.

"You guys made me the person that I am. If she couldn't see and appreciate that, she didn't deserve a place in my life."

Henry and Elizabeth looked at each other, both impressed by their middle child and her maturity, not to mention her apparent devotion to Team McCord.

"I'm sorry, baby," Elizabeth said, reaching out to hug her.

"It's okay," Alison said. "Someone will come along who appreciates you guys almost as much as I do, and then I'll know it's right."

Over Alison's head, Henry watched his wife's eyes sparkle with tears and thought for the thousandth time that he and Elizabeth couldn't have done any better if they'd tried.


	55. Dance With Me

**Prompt: This wasn't based on a prompt, but it was based on the song Dance With Me by Phillip Phillips. If you want the full effect, listen to it while you read! And if you're not familiar with Phillip Phillips, listen to him because I love him.**

Henry reached out his hand to Elizabeth, watching the way her eyes lit up as they met his own. The familiar, haunting strains of what had become their song had begun to fill the air around them, filling every corner of the now-empty room.

"Dance with me?" he asked. She smiled brightly at him, and Henry felt his heart skip a beat inside his chest.

No matter how many times she smiled at him like that, it never failed to create something within him. He wondered if her smile would still make him feel that way when they were old and grey and had grandchildren running around. He hoped so.

She took his hand and Henry took note of the gleaming wedding band that had joined his mother's engagement ring on her left ring finger. It filled him with a sense of pride to see those rings on her finger. Knowing that she was his wife, that God or the universe or whatever other forces were working around them had bestowed on him the gift of a lifetime with Elizabeth Adams- _McCord_ \- was almost more than he could bear.

He was certain that he'd never understand what good he'd done to receive a gift like her.

"Mrs. McCord," he said softly, watching as her smile somehow grew brighter before his eyes.

"Mr. McCord," she replied. "Doesn't quite carry the same weight, does it?" she asked.

"Doesn't matter," he murmured. He spun her around and she laughed as he pulled her back in close. At the way her eyes sparkled when she looked at him, Henry could feel tears building in his throat. They'd both held it together that day; through the ceremony and their handwritten vows, through their first dance as husband and wife, through it all neither of them had cried even once.

Elizabeth wouldn't, and Henry knew it. His new wife was nothing if not strong-willed, and she'd expressed to him more than once how important it was to her for this day- their wedding day- to be a happy one, untainted by the tragedy that had left her walking down the aisle with her brother instead of her dad.

It had been a magical day for both of them, and the memories they'd made on that day would be ones they would treasure forever; he was sure of that much. Now, with all of their guests cleared out, surrounded by the silence and the flowers and the candles that were burning low, Henry thought to himself that this might end up being the moment he treasured most.

His first moments alone with Elizabeth, their first chance to see one another intimately, without guests and pasted smiles and all of the to-do that came with one's wedding day.

She was a vision, maybe now even more than she'd been at the start of the day. Now, strands of her blonde hair were starting to escape from the simple, elegant updo that would grace their wedding photos for decades. Her lipstick had worn off, and Henry noticed that at some point, she'd wiped away half of the makeup that had been on her face. She'd taken her shoes off hours earlier, and now her bare feet rustled the hem of her white dress. She'd removed her veil, and he noticed for the first time the absence of her earrings.

She'd been a beautiful bride, but now she was beautifully Elizabeth, and Henry could feel himself falling more in love with her by the second. An expression of beautiful tenderness crossed her features as a stray tear made its way down his cheek. She reached up, swiping it away with her thumb.

"Don't," she said softly. "You almost made it."

"Almost," Henry chuckled.

"Why are you crying now?" she asked as he gently turned her around on the dance floor, holding her close.

"Honestly?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Always," she replied.

"I just...can't figure out how I could possibly have gotten this lucky," he replied. "To be able to spend the rest of my life with you."

"Oh man, McCord, you're really trying to make me cry, aren't you?" she asked, and Henry couldn't help but laugh.

"Not actively," he said.

She smiled up at him and Henry felt his heart flutter in his chest. He wondered to himself exactly how long it would take for him to get used to the fact that she was his wife.

"It's been quite a day," Elizabeth remarked as Henry spun her in a slow circle across the floor.

"The best day," Henry replied immediately. "So far," he added.

"So far," Elizabeth echoed as she took one hand off of her new husband and used it to pull her hair loose from its up-do. Henry felt his breath catch as he watched her curls tumble to her shoulders. She shook her head slightly and smiled up at him. Little by little, she was transforming from the stunning bride into the stunning girl he'd fallen in love with. And as for Henry, he was loving every moment of it. In fact, he couldn't imagine ever not loving every moment of being by her side.

"You're beautiful," he told her in a quiet, reverent voice that sent a shiver up her spine as she curled closer to him.

"I wish this could just...last forever," Elizabeth sighed, looking around at the warmly-lit room and taking in all the beauty of that moment with him, just the two of them alone in their little bubble of joy and bliss.

"It's going to," he told her softly, and she smiled brightly up at him, leaning in to press her lips against his lightly. Henry felt it in his whole body, like a spark of electricity that raced through his veins.

"Let's get going, Mrs. McCord," Henry murmured into her ear as the song started to fade away. She smiled slightly as she let him spin her once more.

"Big plans?" she asked.

"Oh yeah," he replied immediately, and Elizabeth laughed, more than happy to take his hand and let him lead her off of the dance floor.


	56. More Than Ice Cream

**Prompt: In the middle of a fight, Henry sees Elizabeth lost in her own world and quietly sobbing. He's afraid he'll say something wrong, so he just leaves her a bowl of ice cream and a note saying he loves her.**

Henry, walking down the stairs, could hear the quiet sound of Elizabeth crying. He knew the sound well, could identify it anywhere, and it never failed to break his heart. Now was no exception. They'd been fighting, but it didn't matter. She was the love of his life, his best friend. No fight could ever make him want to hear her crying like that. She didn't notice him from where she sat in the office. Henry looked at her through the dining room, watching the way her shoulders trembled, and it took all of his willpower not to go to her, take her in his arms, and hold her tight. He wanted to make her stop crying, or at least hold her while she did. He hated seeing her upset like that.

However, he wasn't sure that was such a good idea. He had said some hurtful things to her in his anger, and he didn't know that she'd want him to try to be there for her now like he had been before. The sound tore at his heart; it was almost as if he could feel it shredding inside him. He sighed, wishing he could do something. He seriously considered going over there anyway, trying his hand at comforting her. But then he considered how much worse he could potentially make it, and thought better of that idea. He leaned over the counter, debating what he might be able to do that wouldn't involve making a wrong turn or saying something to make it worse. And suddenly, it came to him, and he turned toward the freezer. He pulled out a container of ice cream, which he knew from decades of experience almost always brought at least a small smile to her face, and reached for a bowl. Henry worked quietly, glancing up at her as he did so. With the ice cream in the bowl, he looked around and reached for the notepad on the counter, pulling it toward him and grabbing a pen from the container they kept in the corner. It was a habit from the days in which they'd had a telephone table in their shared apartment, a habit they'd never broken despite the prevalent use of cell phones and other electronic devices. Henry set pen to paper.

 _I love you_ , he wrote. He drew a heart next to his words, and frowned at it. It was lopsided. He'd never been good at hearts, but he hoped that the gesture would mean more than the result. He picked up the bowl and the note and headed into the office. When she heard him approaching, she attempted to still herself and hide her tears, but Henry pretended not to notice. He said nothing, just set the bowl on the desk along with the note and briefly brushed his fingers over her shoulder before he forced himself to turn and walk away, heading back up the stairs.

Elizabeth watched him go, and when he was out of sight, looked back down at the surface of her desk, eyes drawn to the note.

 _I love you_ , she read, and couldn't help but smile slightly through her tears at the sight of the crooked little heart next to it. She sighed, reaching for the ce cream. She took a bite and glanced up the stairs where Henry had just disappeared. Even in the midst of a fight, all he'd wanted was to make her feel better. She could guess his thought process; he hadn't wanted to push, he'd worried he might make her more upset, so he'd come up with a way to make her feel better that didn't include him being in her physical space. She could imagine that it hadn't been easy for him; Henry's instinct was always to hold her, be with her, talk to her. Now, as she thought about what he'd done instead and looked down at the note he'd left on her desk for her, the ice cream suddenly didn't feel like enough anymore. She stood and headed through the kitchen, dropping the ice cream off in the freezer as she made her way through. She'd come back for that later, but right now, she wanted to be with Henry. Upstairs, Elizabeth stepped cautiously into her bedroom. Henry looked up from where he sat on their bed, glasses slipping down his nose and hair a mess. Elizabeth felt her heart stumble in her chest as she met his gaze. It never ceased to amaze her how he could still make her feel after all these years.

"You okay?" he asked hesitantly, and she moved toward him, crawling unceremoniously into his lap. Henry felt the ghost of a smile flicker over his face as he moved to cradle her against his chest. The tightness inside him loosened with Elizabeth's presence, and Henry felt as if he could breathe properly again.

"I love you," she breathed, and Henry kissed the top of her head.

"I love you too," he answered. She curled herself against his chest and he ran a soothing hand along her arm, fingertips trailing against her skin in a way that was somehow both familiar and new. Henry felt her shudder against his chest and looked down to find her crying again.

"Baby, why are you crying?" he asked softly.

"You brought me ice cream," she whispered, and he laughed lightly.

"I didn't want to upset you," he said. "Well, upset you more."

Elizabeth nodded.

"I know," she breathed. She looked up at him and he swiped at a stray tear with the pad of his thumb, his touch so tender and gentle that it made her heart skip a beat.

"Did you know that your heart was sideways?" she asked, and Henry laughed.

"Yes," he replied. "I've never been good at hearts."

"It's fine," Elizabeth said. "You're good at a lot of other things."

Henry brushed her hair out of her face and pressed his lips to her forehead.

"Are we okay?" he asked. She nodded.

"We're okay," she answered as she rested her head against his shoulder.

"What did you do with the ice cream?" Henry asked as he wrapped her just a little bit more tightly in his arms. Elizabeth breathed a laugh.

"It's in the freezer," she answered. "I'll eat it later. I just wanted to be with you."

"More than ice cream?" he asked in mock outrage. Elizabeth looked up at him, blue eyes more intense than he'd expected.

"Always more than ice cream," she said seriously, and it may have seemed silly, but Henry felt the weight of those words. It wasn't about ice cream, not really, but rather about her deep love for him. More than not only ice cream. More than fighting. More than disagreements. More than tears.

He wrapped himself more securely against her, and she melted into him, both of them existing there in comfortable silence just as they belonged- together.


	57. Scrambled Eggs

**Prompt: Henry teaches Elizabeth to make scrambled eggs.**

Henry was nervous.

He wasn't quite sure why he was nervous, and wouldn't have been able to articulate it if asked, but as he waited for Elizabeth to arrive at his little apartment, he was feeling it nonetheless. He looked around at the countertop, checking it over again to make sure he had everything. He'd invited his girlfriend over for dinner, but what she didn't know yet was that he had plans to teach her to make scrambled eggs. Elizabeth was a total disaster in the kitchen, and he would be lying if he said he didn't worry about that sometimes. His solution had seemed like a good one right up until this moment. Now, he was unsure. What if she was offended? What if she thought he was making fun of her?

Henry didn't have time to ponder that further, however, because a soft knock sounded out through the room and he lunged for the door, pulling it open before he could think about it too much. Elizabeth smiled at him from the other side of the threshold, dressed in her ratty boyfriend jeans and a UVA sweatshirt with the sleeves pushed up to her elbows. Her hair was tied up in a simple braid and she wore dirty white tennis shoes on her feet, but the sight of her still took his breath away.

"Hi," he said.

"Hey," she answered as he stepped aside to let her in. He shut the door behind her and then turned to her, hoping that he hadn't just made a horrible mistake.

"Eggs?" Elizabeth asked, looking quizzically over her shoulder at her boyfriend, who nodded nervously.

"Yeah," he answered. "Um, I was thinking that I could show you how to make them."

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows at him.

"Why?" she asked. "Because I'm a terrible cook?"

"No!" Henry answered quickly, but backtracked at the look on her face. "Yes. I mean, that's not why I want to show you. It's just- I don't-"

Watching him struggle to find the right words, Elizabeth couldn't help but laugh.

"Relax, Henry," she said. "I'm just messing with you."

He hesitated.

"You're not offended?" he asked. "Because I was worried you might be offended." Elizabeth laughed.

"No," she answered. "I really am a terrible cook."

"Well, for what it's worth," Henry began, "that really isn't the main reason I want to show you."

"So, what is?" she asked curiously.

"I guess it kind of does tie back to you being a terrible cook," Henry admitted, and she laughed, "but really it's just that I worry about you. That you're not eating enough or eating healthy foods because you don't know how to make them for yourself and...I don't know, it's probably stupid."

Elizabeth smiled slightly at him, and reached for the hem of her sweatshirt to pull it over her head in an attempt to hide the blush that had crept into her cheeks. She was not at all used to having someone care for her the way that Henry did, and while it had been unsettling at first, she found that now she actually enjoyed it. She liked that he cared enough about her to think about things like that.

"It's not stupid," she said from behind her sweatshirt while Henry smiled at the sight of her tangled up in it. She finally managed to free herself and smiled at him.

"I like learning new things," she said with a shrug, "but fair warning, this is probably going to be a total disaster."

"No," Henry chuckled. "Trust me, it's really easy. Come here."

She joined him at the stove and he glanced over at her.

"Alright, so we're going to start with scrambling the eggs," he instructed as he handed her an egg. "Just crack it on the side of the bowl."

"Me?" she asked. Henry laughed.

"Yes," he answered. "It's not hard, go ahead," he encouraged her. She followed his movements and cracked the egg, ending up with just a little piece of shell in the bowl.

"That can't be good," she remarked as she peered into the bowl. Henry stifled a laugh.

"It's fine," he said. "You can just carefully pull it out."

She did, and the triumphant look on her face made Henry smile.

"Alright, so we're just going to add some salt and pepper," he continued, and she watched him sprinkle it on the eggs. When he glanced over at her, she looked confused.

"What?" he asked.

"How do you know how much to add?" she asked, looking between him and the eggs. Henry thought about that. He couldn't recall ever being told how much to add.

"Uh, well...it's a matter of taste," he said. She grinned.

"You don't remember, do you?" she asked, and he laughed.

"Honestly, no," he admitted. "But I also really don't think it matters. As long as you don't go overboard, you should be fine."

She nodded and he handed her a whisk, which she took but did not move toward the bowl.

"You're going to use that to stir them," he said. "That's the scrambling part of scrambled eggs."

"Whenever I see people do this, they go really fast," she mused, looking at the eggs in the bowl.

"Yeah," Henry said as he reached into the fridge for some butter to put in the pan. "That's how you do it. Just hold the bowl steady and whisk it around as quickly as you can."

She held the whisk perpendicular to the eggs and began to stir, and Henry shook his head.

"No, here, let me show you," he said, standing behind her. "You just tilt it like this, and- yeah, with your wrist."

"All in the wrist," Elizabeth muttered. The look of concentration on her face as she whisked the eggs vigorously was the most adorable thing Henry thought he'd ever seen.

"Perfect," he said, but when Elizabeth glanced up, she found that he was looking at her and not the eggs. The pesky blush returned to her cheeks and she looked down, clearing her throat.

"Alright, so now that this pan is hot, we're just going to put some butter in, about that much," he instructed, showing her as he performed the action. Elizabeth watched as the butter sizzled in the pan. "You don't want it too hot though," he cautioned, pointing to the dial on the stove. "About right there is good."

She nodded her head.

"Why do you put butter in it?" she asked.

"Partially for flavor, but mostly because it keeps the eggs from sticking to the pan," Henry explained. He glanced down at the bowl to ensure that the eggs were sufficiently whisked.

"See how you can't tell the difference between the whites and the yolks now?" he asked, and her gaze followed his; she nodded.

"That's how you know you've got them scrambled," he said.

"Makes sense," Elizabeth siad. She looked cautiously at the stove and then back to Henry. "Do we put them in now?" she asked.

"Yep," he confirmed. He watched her and when she didn't move, he laughed. "Go ahead," he encouraged. "Just pour it all into the pan." She nodded, as if steeling herself, and lifted the bowl to pour the eggs in. The sizzling was muffled and Elizabeth stepped back.

"There you go," Henry said with a smile as she stepped forward again.

"Now what?" she asked nervously. Henry smiled and handed her a plastic spatula.

"Now, just keep them moving a bit, and you'll be good to go," he said, and watched as she poked at the eggs.

"Like this," he said, showing her what he meant with his hand over hers on the handle of the spatula. "Oh, and always use a plastic spatula on a pan like this. Metal ones will damage it."

Elizabeth nodded seriously, and did as he'd asked.

"See how they're all getting dry?" Henry asked a few moments later.

"Yeah, they look like scrambled eggs," she said and he laughed.

"Exactly," he said. "Here."

He took the pan and emptied the eggs onto the plate he'd set aside earlier. Elizabeth watched him and then he smiled at her.

"And now you've made scrambled eggs," he told her. She smiled proudly as he grabbed a fork and speared some egg on it before offering it to her. She blew on the egg and opened her mouth, taking the egg from the fork as he looked on.

"Good?" he asked.

"Actually, yeah," she said, sounding incredibly surprised. Henry laughed as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, reaching out with his other hand to turn the burner off.

"That's the most important part," he said. She rolled her eyes.

"Believe it or not," she said. "I got that part."

Henry chuckled.

"You never know," he remarked, and Elizabeth took the fork from him to get another bite of the eggs.

"We're going to need more than this for dinner," she said in a matter-of-fact sort of way.

"Oh yeah," Henry agreed with a grin. "I vote greasy Chinese."

"I second that vote," Elizabeth said around a mouthful of egg. Henry smiled as he reached for the takeout menu, thinking to himself that he just might be the luckiest guy on the planet.


	58. The Contact Dilemma

**Prompt: After the incident with Andrada, Henry is cautious about touching or holding Elizabeth, not wanting to pressure her or make her uncomfortable.**

Henry glanced over at his wife as she settled onto her own side of their bed. She looked exhausted, and Henry felt for her. He had been struggling with his protective instincts all day as he had waited on her to get home. Now, it was late, nearly two in the morning, and she was finally next to him. All he really wanted to do was wrap her up in his arms and hold her, make sure she knew how loved and treasured she was, not to mention convince himself that she was safe. All he had to do was think about what Andrada had done to her and he would start to feel sick. He was proud of her for punching the guy, but if he was being honest with himself, he really wished he'd been able to do it himself. Henry was a patient and gentle man, but that was something he wouldn't tolerate. He'd taken on the internal responsibility of keeping Elizabeth safe a long time ago, and even though he knew she was strong and independent, those instincts were still very prevalent within him.

All of those thoughts brought him to the issue that was now at the forefront of his mind. As much as Henry wanted to hold her, it had occurred to him that she might not be so eager. She'd been violated, and he couldn't help but wonder if she would want to be touched. It made him sad to think about the idea that she could not want him to touch her, but he would understand if that were the case. He just wasn't quite sure how to approach the topic with her. He'd thought of this dilemma just moments after she'd arrived home, and hadn't touched her since. Unbeknownst to Henry, that had not escaped his wife's notice. She watched him covertly, and her stomach churned. It was very unlike Henry to avoid touching her, and she couldn't help the way her mind spun into overdrive as she reflected on that. She had only been able to come up with one conclusion as to what could have made him stop touching her, and it was one that broke her heart.

As she thought about it, she felt tears building behind her eyes, stinging and hot. She blinked and stray tears fell from her eyes. Henry glanced over just in time to catch her wiping them away, and turned his body toward her, physically struggling not to reach out to her.

"Elizabeth?" he asked. "Babe, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she said, but her wavering voice told another story.

"You're not," he said. "Please talk to me."

"Why?" she snapped through her tears. "What's the point in talking when I'm damaged enough for you not to want to touch me?"

Henry stared at her, his heart plummeting to his stomach within him. Her words made him feel even more sick than the idea of what Andrada had done to her in the first place.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing," she tried to backtrack, but it was far too late.

"Is that really what you think?" he asked.

"I don't know," Elizabeth said helplessly. "I just- I know it seems ridiculous, it doesn't seem like something you would think at all. It's just that you haven't touched me since I got home and that's all I could come up with."

"Elizabeth," he sighed. "That's not it at all."

"Then what?" she asked, looking over to meet his gaze.

"I didn't want to assume that you wanted to be touched," Henry admitted. "I just didn't want to upset you or make you feel uncomfortable, Elizabeth, I'm- I'm sorry."

"Oh," she breathed. "I didn't think of that."

The idea seemed to only make her more upset, and Henry could see the emotions of the whole day and the whole ordeal playing out on her face.

"So, to be clear, you want me to touch you?" he asked awkwardly. Elizabeth nodded her head and Henry wasted no time in moving closer to her. He wrapped his arms around her and she curled against his chest, still crying in spite of her best efforts.

"I'm sorry, baby," he said. "I could never think that way about you. No matter what."

"I know," she said. "I mean, I do know that, I just wasn't thinking straight and it was all I could think of."

"Shh. It's okay," he said, running his fingers through her hair. "It's alright now, babe."

"God, Henry, I just...I can't believe these things are still happening," she said softly.

"I know," he agreed. "I worry so much for you and the girls."

"So do I," she admitted.

"But it's nice to know that they have a mom who shows them to punch any guy who tries anything," he said, eliciting a soft chuckle from Elizabeth that made him smile slightly.

"I love you, Elizabeth," Henry said quietly, trying not to let his voice betray his emotions. Naturally, it didn't work. She looked up at him and her face softened at the sight of his eyes filled with tears.

"I love you too," she said softly as she reached up to swipe a stray tear off of his cheek.

"Come on," she said. "Let's get some sleep, okay?"

Henry nodded and pulled her closer to him, wishing he could protect her with his touch- or with anything, really. He fell into a fitful sleep, holding Elizabeth close and hoping that Andrada would someday have to suffer more than a broken nose for what he'd done.


	59. Falling

**Prompt: Falling in love can be scary, but Henry never knew how scared Elizabeth was until years later, when he overhears her talk about it with one of their children.**

Henry hesitated in the hallway at the sound of Elizabeth's voice from inside Stevie's room. He suspected it had something to do with the new guy she'd been seeing, and Henry couldn't help his curiosity, even though he knew he'd probably hear it all later from Elizabeth anyway. He leaned against the wall, listening.

"I just...I don't want to get hurt again," Stevie was saying. Elizabeth sighed, and Henry could hear her shifting on Stevie's bed.

"I know," Elizabeth answered. "Falling in love is scary, especially when you've lost people you loved. Whether you lost them to death or to heartbreak, loss makes loving harder."

"What are you supposed to do about it?" their daughter asked, sounding frustrated.

"Well," Elizabeth began, "I think you just have to find some trust, or at least manage to convince yourself that it's there."

"What do you mean?" Stevie inquired.

"When your dad and I first got together," Elizabeth began, "I was so terrified. He was everything I'd ever wanted, but I was so guarded that for a long time, I could barely see it, let alone believe it. I was scared to believe in him, scared to let myself love him, because I was convinced he was going to leave, or die, or just...that it wouldn't work out, one way or another."

"So what did you do?" Stevie asked. Elizabeth laughed.

"I took a leap of faith," she admitted. "I just convinced myself that if I didn't give him a shot, I'd never know. It was the scariest thing I've ever done, but it had the best results."

Henry recognized the signs of the conversation winding down, and retreated to his and Elizabeth's bedroom. A few minutes later, his wife walked into the room and sat down beside him. She smiled slightly and leaned in, pressing her lips against his. He reciprocated her kiss, and then pulled back to look at her. She smiled and settled against his side, snuggling close to him.

"I overheard you talking to Stevie," he said quietly. She looked up at him, altogether unsurprised.

"Yeah?"

He nodded, pulling her closer to him and kissing the top of her head.

"I had no idea," he said, and she turned to look at him.

"Really?" she asked. He nodded in confirmation.

"No clue," he swore. "I don't know how I missed it."

Elizabeth laughed as she leaned in to him.

"I don't know how I hid it," she admitted. She looked up at him, her features softening as she leaned up to kiss his cheek lightly.

"Thank you for not breaking my heart," she sighed. He smiled.

"Thank you for healing mine," he murmured against her hair. Together, the two of them settled into bed, side by side, just as they had been in all things for so many years.

Just as they would be, for so many more.


	60. Forever

**A/N: This is based on "Forever" by The Beach Boys, which has been one of my favorites since I was a little girl. The concept is Henry playing guitar for Elizabeth and baby Stevie :)**

Henry woke slowly, the sound of his baby daughter's cries dragging his exhausted mind and body to consciousness yet again, after what felt like a mere five minutes of sleep. He had never loved another human being- not even Elizabeth-the way he loved little Stephanie Elise McCord, but _oh god having a baby was exhausting_. He couldn't even imagine how Elizabeth felt, if he was this exhausted just being their infant's dad. A glance to his left confirmed what Henry had assumed; Elizabeth was already up. Stevie's crying had lessened, but he could still hear her fussing as he tossed back the blankets with a glance over at the glowing red numbers on his clock.

4:53

Almost morning.

With a resigned sigh, Henry pulled himself from the warm bed and headed out of his bedroom and down the hall to the nursery. After all, without Elizabeth the comfort of his bed had a lot less appeal. In Stevie's room, Henry leaned against the doorframe for a second and watched, feeling a certain warmth spread through his chest at the sight before him. His wife, long blonde hair pulled back in a scrunchie, stood in the center of the room with their infant daughter cradled against her chest. Elizabeth swayed back and forth slowly, and the strips of moonlight that streamed into the room through the sheer lilac curtains illuminated one side of her face. Henry could see the way she gazed down at the baby; only three weeks after her birth, little Stephanie was such a wonder to her parents that she could take their breath away with a tiny yawn or stretch of her perfect little fingers. It was all there on Elizabeth's face, and that took Henry's breath away just as much as his daughter did.

"Come on, sweet girl," Elizabeth sighed. "Please sleep for Mama."

Henry couldn't help the small smile that rose to his features as he stepped forward, finally catching Elizabeth's attention.

"Look, it's Daddy," she whispered to Stevie, who continued to squirm restlessly against Elizabeth.

"There's my girls," Henry murmured as he came to stand beside Elizabeth, pressing a kiss against her head.

"You want me to take her?" he asked quietly, but Elizabeth shook her head.

"No," she sighed. "I'm going to try and feed her, see if I can get her to quiet down." Henry nodded and watched as Elizabeth sank into the rocking chair by the window. Henry sat down on the floor, reaching for his guitar. As he settled it into his lap, he glanced up to find his wife gazing down at the face of their baby girl, and his heart physically ached in his chest with the love that he held there for the both of them. As Stevie slowly started to fall quiet and Elizabeth rocked gently back and forth, Henry strummed lightly against the strings, filling the room with quiet acoustic chords. Elizabeth smiled faintly at the sound of the familiar tune.

"Daddy's playing Mama's favorite song," she whispered to Stevie, and Henry smiled down at the guitar at her words. Silence settled over them, and Henry looked up to meet Elizabeth's gaze for just a fraction of a second before she looked back down at the baby, who was gazing up at her with bright blue eyes framed by long, perfect eyelashes.

As the clouds drifted by outside and the light in the room shifted ever-so-slightly, illuminating Elizabeth in silvery moonlight, Henry was overcome with a rush of affection. Having Stevie had made him love her even more, a feat that he'd thought impossible. As he played his guitar, he softly started to sing.

" _If every word I said_

 _Could make you laugh_

 _I'd talk forever I ask the sky just what we had_

 _It shone forever_

 _If the song I sing to you_

 _Could fill your heart with joy_

 _I'd sing forever_

 _Forever"_

Trailing off, Henry looked up from his guitar to find Elizabeth watching him, and something in her gaze felt inexplicably like home. There, in the pre-dawn darkness of their daughter's bedroom, each of them more exhausted than they'd ever been before, Henry and Elizabeth were more in love than they'd imagined was possible.

"It sounds different in this context than when I sing it in the shower," Elizabeth admitted, and Henry laughed lightly.

"It was supposed to," he assured her as he went to her side, kneeling beside the rocking chair and looking up at his wife. He smiled as he ran a hand over her cheek, pure and undeniable love shining in his hazel eyes.

"Would you?" she asked thoughtfully.

"Would I what?" he asked in reply as he gazed down at Stevie, resting in Elizabeth's arms with her little fist curled around the fabric of her mother's bathrobe.

"Sing forever," she replied. "You know, like in the lyrics."

Henry tore his gaze away from their daughter and looked up at her, meeting her eyes there in the darkness with a ray of moonlight splitting his face while the warm light from the hallway spilled onto the floor and Stevie nestled against Elizabeth.

"I'd sing for lifetimes," he replied seriously, and Elizabeth felt his words tug at her heart, breath catching in her throat as she took in the way he was looking at her.

"For both of you," Henry added, and she couldn't help but smile slightly.

Elizabeth had never felt so lucky as she did in that tender moment, her body and mind exhausted, baby girl in her arms, and Henry at her side, looking up at her with so much fierce, elegant love that it was almost tangible.

She had always heard that having a newborn could put a strain on her marriage, but right then, Elizabeth was thinking that it seemed to be having the opposite effect. Silently, she hoped that it could stay that way, forever.

 _Let the love I have for you_

 _Live in your heart_

 _And beat forever (together my love)_

 _Forever_

 _Forever_

 _I've been so happy loving you_


	61. The Breaking Point

**Prompt: Seeing Henry lose his composure during/after the nuclear situation is the thing that finally breaks Elizabeth.**

Elizabeth stared at her own reflection in the bathroom mirror as she brushed her teeth. She looked different somehow, to herself, as if something had shifted. And it had, she reminded herself. Something had shifted, in those moments in which she was sure she was looking at her children for the last time, holding Henry's hand and knowing that their lives were ending then and there. She sighed, wondering if it was possible to go back to her normal life after that. How could she and Henry just continue to sleep together every night and have meals with their children and exist as if the events of what had begun as a normal Saturday had never happened? Elizabeth wasn't sure that they could. She rolled her shoulders, feeling the tension there and wondering vaguely if that would ever go away. She genuinely wasn't sure. She put her toothbrush away and turned away from the mirror. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been this ready for a day to end.

As she stepped back through the closet and into the bedroom, however, it became apparent to her that the day was not quite over yet. Her husband sat on the edge of their bed, leaning forward as he sobbed openly, his shoulders shaking. Elizabeth felt the sight tug at her heart; she had never handled this well. Seeing Henry fall apart was always the thing that tore her apart more than anything else. She sat down next to him and rested her hand on his back.

"Elizabeth," he choked, and she felt tears sting her eyes as he turned to her.

"I know," she said. "It's okay. I know."

"Oh god," Henry breathed. He turned his head against Elizabeth's shoulder and just like that, the two of them were holding one another, locked in an embrace that was fraught with raw, unbridled emotion. They'd both been holding it together; Henry for Elizabeth, Elizabeth because she didn't know how to let go. But now, the sight of her husband sobbing had reached a part of her that she herself did not know how to reach. She wrapped her fingers around the fabric of Henry's shirt, thinking back to those moments in the arcade. Tears streamed down Elizabeth's cheeks as Henry clung to her.

"I can't stop thinking about it," Henry breathed against her. Elizabeth closed her eyes.

"I thought it was all over, Elizabeth, and I thought…"

"I know," she assured him. "Me too."

"What if-"

"Don't," she begged, pulling back to look at him. The look in his eyes made Elizabeth's blood boil with anger at the world in general. Henry was so gentle, so inherently good. For something to have happened to make him look that haunted, made her want to rid the world of all of it; anything that could make him look at her like that.

"Henry, please don't say _what if_ ," she begged through her tears. "I can't think that way, not tonight. Because I'm already thinking that way, and I can't hear you say it, okay? So just...please?"

"Okay," he said soothingly, as he reached out to her. "I won't," he said softly. "It's okay. I've got you." He pulled her into his arms, holding her close as she took a shaky breath. He held her tight, unable to stop thinking about how it had felt to be certain he would never have the chance again.

"I love you," he murmured, and Elizabeth could almost feel her heart breaking at the sound of his soft, desperate plea to her.

"I love you, too, Henry," she answered. "So much."

"You didn't leave," he said a few moments later as the lie next to one another in the dark, still clinging to each other in the center of their bed.

"Of course I didn't," she breathed. "Henry, I could never."

"We never talked about that," he said. Elizabeth snorted mirthlessly.

"Because that's really something that couples need to discuss," she said, and Henry sighed.

"Well, it's something we should have," he remarked, but elizabeth shook her head, turning to press her lips against his neck lightly.

"It's not," she said. "Because there's nothing to discuss. I'm with you, and the kids. I would never leave you like that, Henry. If we're going down, we're going down together."

Henry nodded silently, but the way he snuggled closer to her spoke volumes.

"I'm glad we get another day together," Elizabeth said, and Henry shut his eyes as if that could keep out the emotion.

"You and me both, babe," he breathed. "You and me both."


	62. All Okay

**Prompt: (of my own devising) What if Elizabeth's moment after finding out that they're off code Night Watch had escalated into a full blown panic attack?**

"Ma'am?" Elizabeth looked up at the sound, lifting her head from Henry's shoulder.

"We're off Code Night Watch," was the next thing she heard, and she gaped at the man in front of her. "All clear," he added.

"Wait, that's- that's confirmed?" she asked, almost afraid to do so.

"Yes, ma'am. All clear," he repeated, looking extremely relieved himself.

"Thank you, Jimmy," she sighed. "Thank you." He nodded and walked away, while Elizabeth took a sharp inhale as she pivoted back toward Henry.

Elizabeth doubled over, a cry that was as much terror as it was relief ripping air from her lungs. She was aware that if not for the anchor of Henry's touch on her shoulders, she would have collapsed to the floor just then. Henry held her up, watching her closely.

"Elizabeth," Henry breathed, so softly that no one but Elizabeth heard.

"Mom? Mom!" The sound of Stevie's fearful voice only made Elizabeth more panicked. "Are you okay?" Stevie asked. When Jason reached out to touch her, Elizabeth pulled away instinctively, and a combination of hurt and worry flickered over the youngest McCord's face.

"Okay, give her some space, guys," Henry instructed calmly. He knew what was happening; it was written all over his wife's face as she clung to him, and while he wanted to comfort the children, Elizabeth was his first priority just then. He looked around; there were people everywhere, and he knew it could be a disaster if this were to become a public affair.

"Henry," Elizabeth gasped, and he nodded.

"I know, baby, just hold on for me, okay?" he said. "We're going to get you out of here." He turned to the children, all of whom were looking positively terrified.

"Mom is going to be fine, but I need you to stay right here, okay?" Henry told them. Thankfully, none of them argued; Henry had turned away before their three nods, and moments later with the help of Elizabeth's quick-acting security, he and Elizabeth were tucked into the backseat of one of the motorcade's SUVs. As soon as the door was closed, Henry redirected his full attention to his wife, whose breathing had only become more shallow during their quick trip through the arcade.

"Alright," he said softly as she doubled over, chest heaving. He held her, feeling the way her fingernails dug into his skin. "Take it easy, Elizabeth. You're okay."

"Henry," she wheezed, clinging to him.

"Breathe, baby," he reminded her. "You're okay. Everyone is safe. Just breathe."

"I can't- Henry, I-"

"Shh," Henry soothed. "Come here, darling. I've got you." She pressed her forehead against his shoulder. Her chest ached and she struggled to breathe, her mind spinning with panic. Everything that could have happened, all of her unanswered questions, the feeling of looking at her children and thinking that she was seeing them for the very last time: all of it had just crashed down on her in that moment. She'd had no warning, no time to steady herself, and this was the result. She wrapped her fingers around the jacket that Henry was wearing and he ran his hand up and down her back, slow and soothing.

"In and out, Elizabeth," he reminded her. She focused on the sound of his voice.

"Keep talking," she breathed as he fell silent and the panic threatened to overtake her again.

"Okay. I'm right here," Henry assured her. "Kids are safe, everything is okay. We're all alright, we're all going home. It's over, babe." He brought her hand to his chest so that she could feel the rise and fall of his breathing and the steady beat of his heart.

"Just breathe with me, Elizabeth," he said. "See? It's all okay."

Slowly, she began to calm down. He felt her tension slowly begin to fall away as she melted into him.

"I've got you," he muttered quietly. "It's okay."

"Oh, the kids," she sighed.

"Don't worry, Elizabeth, they're fine; just take a minute, okay?" he urged, but Elizabeth wasn't having it. She took a deep breath and pulled herself away from her husband, reaching for the door of the car.

"Madam Secretary?" asked Jimmy as she headed for the arcade again, and Elizabeth offered him a pained smile.

"I'm fine," she said dismissively. He nodded and Henry smiled at him as he followed Elizabeth into the arcade. He caught her arm before she came into view of the children and she glanced back at him.

"Elizabeth," he intoned. "Wait a second." She relented, looking up at him, waiting for him to speak. He tenderly tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"You okay?" he asked, and she offered him a small smile.

"Yes and no," she answered. She looked up at him as if she were seeing him for the first time, and the last, all rolled into one. She leaned in and pressed her lips against his, light but still intense, filled with love and all the emotion of what they'd just gone through.

"I need to see the kids," she breathed. "We'll talk the whole thing out later, okay?"

He nodded, and she pulled away. He watched her go for a moment, marveling at how lucky he was to have even one more moment at her side. Their children hesitated, not wanting to rush her, but when Elizabeth opened her arms to them and smiled, all three of them were around her in seconds, and Henry swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Mom?" Jason asked, his voice small. "Is everything okay?"

Henry watched as Elizabeth ran her hand over the back of his head and kissed his forehead.

"Everything is fine, baby," she assured him, and Henry had to wonder how much of that she believed herself.

"Dad?" Stevie asked from his side, and he looked over at her worried blue eyes.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Is she alright?"

They both looked over at Elizabeth, whose mom instincts were in full force as she comforted a crying Alison. Henry nodded as he briefly met Elizabeth's eyes across the space between them.

"Yes," he said as he wrapped his arm around his daughter's shoulders, grateful that he got to do that again. "She's okay. We all are."


	63. Caretaker

**Prompt: After telling Elizabeth that he'll support her when she runs for President, Henry insists on getting her home, because she still looks dazed and exhausted in the wake of a very long and difficult month.**

When they had pulled apart, Henry took a look across the open space before them at the Washington Monument. He shivered slightly at the memory of the last day they'd been here, with their kids sitting on the steps and Henry trying to teach them and Elizabeth trying to convince him that he wasn't going to get through to them. The last month had been so intense for her, and in turn for the rest of her family as well. She'd barely been sleeping or eating and the latter of the two was how Henry had known there was going to be some serious caretaking involved. He was glad things had lined up so that he wasn't working as much as he'd been a few months prior; he was certain that he wouldn't have been able to care for Elizabeth as effectively if he'd been working as the head of SAD. However, as he looked over at her, he realized that his time as Elizabeth's caretaker had not yet come to an end. She looked exhausted, and with the end of the solid month of intense work, she seemed like she didn't really know what to do with herself.

"Come on," Henry said decisively. He stood, Elizabeth's eyes tracking him as he held his hand out to her.

"Where are we going?" Elizabeth asked as she took it and allowed him to help her up onto her feet.

"Home," he answered. "You look exhausted, baby. You've been working your ass off for the last month. Way past time for an inbreath."

Elizabeth sighed; she knew he was right. The truth of the matter was that she really was exhausted. But there was still some part of her that felt a need to keep up the fight, run the race, not slow down. She wasn't entirely sure where that came from, except for the fact that she'd had to keep her guard up for a solid month.

"Elizabeth," Henry said softly, drawing her close to him. "It's okay to slow down; you need to relax. You did an incredible thing, and now it's time to breathe."

She nodded; she couldn't argue with him when he was looking at her that way, with warm and understanding hazel eyes. He knew her inside and out, and she hadn't needed to say a word for him to know exactly what she'd been thinking. She liked that; that she no longer had to struggle to put her feelings into words with Henry, that he knew her better than she knew herself.

"Alright," she said. "Let's go home."

An hour later found the two of them in their spacious bathroom, warm water pouring from the tap into the bathtub and generating bubbles as it did so.

"Here," Henry murmured, pulling his wife closer to him in the middle of the bathroom with a gently hand on her shoulder. He gathered her hair up in his hand and expertly secured it for her with a clip. She smiled slightly; Henry knew that she loved for him to do her hair, even if it was just to messily clip it up for her bath. He rested his hands on her upper arms and dropped his head to press a kiss to the curve of her shoulder.

"I'll be right back," Henry said softly, and Elizabeth nodded, turning to watch him go before she glanced back at the bath. She slowly lowered herself into the hot water, exhaling at the feeling before she leaned forward, turned the tap off, and settled back against the tub. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, trying desperately to relax her body. She'd not quite realized how tense she was until then, but now she could feel it so oppressively. She was so focused on attempting to relax herself that she didn't even hear her husband return. Henry smiled slightly at the sight of her there, leaning back in the bathtub with her eyes closed, blonde hair tied up and delicate hands resting on the sides of the tub. He was reminded of countless times he'd seen her like this, from the early days of their relationship through the stolen baths in between the busy lives they'd led in early parenthood, to the long and relaxing baths of her days as a professor in which all she'd had to do was be a mom, a wife, and a teacher.

Now, he sat next to her and called her name softly, watching her eyes open to look at him.

"Hi," he said quietly, and she smiled slightly.

"Hi," she answered.

"I brought you something," Henry said, and chuckled as he watched her rise up to peer over the side of the tub. Chocolate strawberries, which he knew were among Elizabeth's favorite indulgences, were arranged on a plate in Henry's lap, and he couldn't help but laugh at the way her blue eyes lit up. She reached for one, but Henry pulled them away from her, watching as she pouted at him.

"Lean back," he instructed, and she listened reluctantly, watching him expectantly. He picked up a strawberry and fed it to her.

"Why are you feeding me?" she asked around her mouthful of strawberry. Henry chuckled.

"Can't you just shut up and eat them?" he asked. Elizabeth shook her head.

"I'm feeding them to you to remind you that you can let someone else take care of you," he answered. "It's more important now than ever that you remember that."

"Why?" she asked, glancing down at the strawberries. Henry fed her another one, watching happiness wash over her face in spite of herself.

"Because," he said, "if you're going to be President someday, you're going to have an even more stressful job. The Presidency ages a person, and I'm not going to end up in the nursing home alone." Elizabeth smiled at that; she couldn't help but be grateful to Henry for how devoted he was to caring for her at times like this, times when she herself couldn't quite manage it or even see that she needed it. She opened her mouth and Henry fed her another strawberry before popping one into his own mouth.

"Hey, who said you could eat my strawberries?" Elizabeth asked. Henry rolled his eyes and offered her another one.

"Who said they were your strawberries?" he asked as he swallowed.

"You did," she answered, but he shook his head.

"No, I told you I brought you something," he corrected.

"Exactly. You brought _me_ something, not _us_ something," she replied, and Henry just chuckled.

Soon, the strawberries were gone and Elizabeth was feeling a little bit less tense.

"Good," Henry sighed as he set the plate on the floor. Elizabeth looked at her quizzically.

"Good?" she repeated, wondering why he sounded so relieved.

"Your appetite," he answered as he moved around behind her. "You haven't been eating the way you normally do this past month. I've been worried." Elizabeth smiled slightly at that, twisting to look at him.

"Stop that," Henry chided, tugging her back into place with his hands on her shoulders. He ran his thumbs along her shoulder blades, working the tension out f her strained muscles.

"Ahh," she breathed. "That's good."

It was quiet for a moment as Henry worked his fingers over her smooth skin.

"You know, I think Morejon is going to be-" Elizabeth began, but Henry chuckled and cut her off.

"Stop," he instructed, and she sighed in annoyance.

"Baby, you've got to relax," he implored. "Seriously. I know you think you can shoulder the whole world, but-" his voice lowered to a whisper as he leaned in close to the shell of her ear "-your shoulders say differently."

Elizabeth sighed, but she leaned back into his touch.

"Let me help," he said quietly. "Trust me, Elizabeth. We've got a long road ahead of us, and I'm totally with you, but you've got to let me be the man beside the woman."

"Henry," she began, determinedly turning around to face him in spite of his protests. "Have I told you lately how much I appreciate what an incredible husband and father you are?"

"Honestly, no," Henry admitted, and watched her eyes become troubled. "But," he continued quickly as he trailed his fingers along her jawline and rested his palm against her cheek, "that's okay. Because I know you do."

He leaned in toward her, and captured her lips against his own in a sweet, tender kiss that took her breath away.

"I love you," she whispered as they broke apart, his forehead resting against hers.

"I love you, too," he murmured. Elizabeth smiled, a dazzling smile that made Henry's breath catch.

"There's only one thing that I think could make this bath better," she said.

"Yeah? And what's that?" Henry asked with a smile; he knew where she was going with that comment. She smiled, tilting her head and batting her eyelashes. He saw glimpses of his Elizabeth in her then, and couldn't help but feel intense relief at that. She leaned in and kissed him lightly- too lightly.

"Get in here, McCord," she murmured in a hushed tone. He laughed, and gladly stood; a few moments later, he had joined her in the bath, and for that night, all was well in the McCord home.


	64. Chapter 64

**Prompt: When she's pregnant with Stevie, Elizabeth keeps having terrible dreams that something's going to go wrong.**

" _I'm so sorry, Mrs. McCord, but there's nothing we can do."_

 _Elizabeth gaped at the woman in front of her, feeling as if the whole world had fallen out from under her._

" _No," she said, a hand moving unconsciously to protect her unborn daughter._

 _The unborn daughter who she was being told now had died._

" _No," she repeated, tears gathering in her eyes. "No, that can't- there has to be something," she said desperately. She looked over at Henry, sitting next to her bed, and found him with his head down, resigned._

" _No," Elizabeth sobbed. "She can't- no, we have a-a crib and-and curtains! I found those curtains, Henry, tell them how pretty the curtains were," she cried._

" _Sweetheart," Henry intoned, sitting on the bed next to her. He shook his head._

" _It's over," he said gently._

"No!"

Her sharp cry roused Henry from sleep, and he rolled over in the dark to find Elizabeth tossing and turning in the sheets.

"No," she sobbed.

"Elizabeth!" he exclaimed, reaching out a steadying hand to his wife. He shook her shoulder gently, attempting to wake her.

"Wake up, babe," he murmured. "Come on, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth suddenly drew in a breath and her eyes snapped open. She gasped for breath, her blue eyes darting around in panic. One hand fell against her stomach, and the other searched subconsciously for Henry.

"Hey, hey," he soothed. "Baby, I'm right here."

"Henry, the baby," she gasped.

"Baby's fine, sweetheart," he said softly. "It's okay." She pushed herself up into a sitting position, looking around at him with tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Henry," she sobbed.

"Hey, come here," he said softly. He gathered her up in his arms and she buried herself in his embrace.

"Henry," she said again.

"I know, baby," he assured her. "I know. It was just a dream, Elizabeth, it wasn't real. I promise."

She gasped for breath, starting to hyperventilate.

"Woah, woah," he said. "Take it easy, babe. Can you breathe for me?"

She met his gaze, warm blue eyes overtaken by panic.

"Breathe, sweetheart," he said. "Everything is going to be alright. I know you're scared, but I promise everything is okay."

"The baby," she sobbed.

"The baby is perfectly fine, honey, I promise. You just had a bad dream again."

It had happened every few nights for the past couple of months; Henry had become adept at calming her down.

Elizabeth rubbed a hand over the swell of the home her body had made for their baby. The baby kicked against the pressure and Elizabeth breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

"Oh, thank God," she sighed, leaning against Henry.

"See?" he said quietly. "Baby's fine, Elizabeth. Everything's okay."

Elizabeth nodded, leaning her head weakly against him.

"Sorry for waking you," she said, her voice hoarse.

"No," he said. "It's okay."

"You're getting almost as little sleep as I am," Elizabeth chuckled mirthlessly.

"It's preparing me for fatherhood," he replied easily, and it pulled a small smile from her.

"You okay?" he asked softly. Elizabeth nodded.

"Yeah, I think so," she said. "Thanks, babe."

"Of course," Henry answered with a smile. His hand brushed against her stomach and he pulled her close, kissing the top of her golden head.

"Always here for my _girls_ ," he said.

"We don't know it's going to be a girl," Elizabeth reminded him, but Henry shook his head.

"It's totally a girl," he argued. "You've even dreamed it."

"Stop using that against me," she warned. "I only told you that in a nightmare-induced haze; nothing I said can be trusted."

Henry shrugged, smiling as they both readjusted so as to lie back down. He gently pulled the comforter up to cover his wife and rested his hand for a moment on her cheek. She snuggled close to him and he ran his fingers lovingly through her hair.

"I'm just saying," he began.

"Don't."

"It's totally a girl."

Elizabeth groaned and Henry just smiled to himself; she was such an easy target at three in the morning.


	65. Target

**Prompt: While at a State Department function with Henry, Elizabeth comes face to face with one of her former CIA targets, and she can't help but step in between him and her husband.**

Elizabeth had actually been having a good time.

She normally hated having to step away from the job itself to make nice at functions like the one she and Henry were attending that evening. She'd always disliked it, thinking that she would be so much better off either doing her job or spending time at home with her family, wearing something comfortable and cuddling with Henry instead of being all dressed up and forcing herself to smile so much that it hurt her face.

Tonight, however, had actually been enjoyable. She supposed having Henry there played a large part in it. He always made things more fun for her, and tonight was no exception. That, in conjunction with the fact that she'd not been given any specific instructions for what she needed to do or who she needed to talk to or what deal she needed to underhandedly save...well, it felt like a small miracle, and she was all about it.

She and Henry had danced, he'd made her laugh, she'd even caught up with a few of the people she hadn't seen in a while. Pleasant people, no less, people that she actually didn't mind talking to. She and Henry were standing at the edge of the crowd, having just finished speaking with someone that Henry knew, when suddenly Elizabeth felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up. It was a prickly, unpleasant feeling that immediately put her on edge. Henry noticed it, watching the way her posture changed and her eyes started to scan their surroundings.

"Elizabeth?" he asked cautiously.

"Wait," she said, and Henry fell silent. He knew better than to mess with Elizabeth when she was like this.

She whirled around, her heart plummeting when she caught the eye of the middle-aged man across the room. He'd been leaning against the wall, just watching her, but now that their eyes had met, he was striding toward her. He drew closer and closer, and Elizabeth swallowed hard. She stepped one pace to the left, putting herself directly between the approaching man and Henry.

"Babe?" Henry asked softly from behind her. Elizabeth ignored him, barely resisting the urge to push him even farther back, away from the smirking man who now stood right before her in a crowded room.

"Elizabeth." Even his voice gave her chills, but Elizabeth didn't back down. She stood very still, her husband still shielded behind her. The man before her had once been among her targets at the CIA. As his eyes flickered over her shoulder at Henry, she was forcefully reminded of everything that he had done. Images flashed through her mind, one after the other, of tortured people and the travesty that he had left behind. They'd never managed to get him; there just hadn't been enough proof that he had been behind it all.

But Elizabeth knew. She knew it was him, she had known all along, and here he was at a State Department function, with his eyes on her husband, and there was no way Elizabeth was backing down.

"What are you doing?" she asked him in a low voice. He smiled at her.

"Catching up, I suppose. How you been, Elizabeth?"

"Secretary McCord," she corrected. "And I suggest you get out of my sight and away from my husband before I tip off my security that you're causing a problem for me."

"So she's not just a low-level analyst anymore, huh?" he said rhetorically, but as he spoke, he glanced over at Blake, standing nearby next to Elizabeth's security detail, and took a step back.

"Good to see you again, Secretary McCord," he said, and she raised her eyebrows, not even responding as he turned and disappeared into the crowd. She took in a breath as she turned back to Henry, who was watching her with concern in his eyes.

"Let's go home, Henry," she said, her voice uncharacteristically soft.

Henry nodded silently; he didn't have the heart to push her when she was looking at him with that haunted look in her eyes. It wasn't until late that night, with their kids all sleeping and the two of them curled up together in the darkness of their bedroom, did she speak of the incident.

"He was my target," she breathed, her words warm against his skin as she shifted, almost subconsciously, closer to him.

"In the CIA?" he asked, more to keep her talking than anything.

"Mmhmm," she hummed. There was something vulnerable in her voice, and it made Henry want to draw her in closer and protect her. Elizabeth was tough, and she could more than hold her own. That, however, didn't stop him from wanting to keep her safe.

"You stepped in front of me," he said, all of it suddenly clicking into place for him as he thought back on the evening's events.

"Mmhmm," she said again, and then she was looking up at him and he could make out her familiar features as she tilted her head back to meet his eyes.

"I had to," she breathed, and he nodded his head slightly as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to her forehead.

"I know," he assured her.

Silence settled over them for a moment, and Henry drew in a breath, taking in the familiar scent of coffee, soap, and lavender shampoo; _Elizabeth._ He took a second to be grateful that she was safe in his arms; it was far from the first time, and he was pretty sure it wouldn't be the last, but that knowledge didn't lessen the effect of that rush of gratitude. He couldn't imagine how different his life would be without his Elizabeth, and as his brain strayed in that direction, he slammed his eyes shut. He couldn't go there. Not now, not with her wrapped up in his arms and breathing slowly as her fingers fiddled with the chain of his necklace.

"He was guilty?" he heard himself ask. It was unnecessary clarification. He just wanted to hear her again, hoping that her voice could somehow steer him back to this moment, with her.

"Yes," she confirmed. "We all knew it. We just couldn't prove it." There was a note of bitterness, and Henry just wanted to erase it, to pull her into some lighter place, far away from the pain and regret of where her mind was residing just then.

Henry leaned in, brushing his lips against hers gently. Despite still feeling unsettled, Elizabeth breathed a sigh of contentment as she settled herself against Henry. As painful as it had been to see that face staring back at her again and still not be able to do anything about it, Elizabeth fell asleep that night, grateful to have Henry safe beside her.


	66. Safety vs Family

**Prompt: When the McCord children find out the truth about the nuclear situation, they're upset that their mother wouldn't try to save herself.**

The McCords remained quiet as President Dalton finished his address to the nation and the TV went silent at the push of a button. Alison was clinging to her dad, while Jason moved a fraction of an inch closer to Elizabeth and Stevie stared straight ahead in shock. Henry tightened his hold on Elizabeth's hand and she squeezed back, silent communication and comfort passing between them.

"Are you guys okay?" Elizabeth asked, looking over at her children, her keen gaze passing from one of their faces to the next. A glance at Henry found him doing the same thing.

"You stayed."

It was Stevie who spoke, her voice betraying nothing. All of the other members of the family looked over at her, and she turned her head toward Elizabeth, meeting her mother's eyes.

"What?" Elizabeth asked.

"You stayed," Stevie repeated. "There was a nuclear threat, and you were with us. I know you weren't supposed to, there's no way the Secretary of State isn't on the list."

Elizabeth glanced at Henry, who offered her nothing; he was watching Stevie closely, and if Elizabeth had to guess she would have said he was trying to determine their daughter's feelings on the subject.

"That's true," Elizabeth admitted. "I did stay."

"Wait, are you saying you had a chance to go somewhere safe?" Jason asked, pulling away from Elizabeth to turn and face her alongside his sister. Alison was still clinging to Henry, but he could tell that she was more tense as she watched her siblings.

"Yes," Elizabeth answered honestly.

"And you didn't go?" Jason clarified.

"No, I didn't," she replied.

"Why?" Alison asked, finally sitting up from where she had been leaning against her dad and joining Stevie and Jason. Faced with looks from her children that could only be described as accusing, Elizabeth glanced over at Henry, who looked quite as perplexed as she felt.

"Because I would rather have stayed with you guys," Elizabeth replied.

"No," Stevie said, an air of finality in her voice. "You can't do that. You could have been safe, and you weren't because you stayed there in the arcade. Even though nothing happened this time, it could have, and you thought it was, and you didn't even try to save yourself."

Elizabeth watched her eldest child grow more passionate as she spoke, tears sparkling in her eyes. She looked around at Alison and Jason, who seemed to wholeheartedly agree with their older sister.

"You would have wanted me to go?" she asked.

"Yes," Jason answered fiercely. She looked over at him. "Yes," he repeated. "Of course you should have gone. And not just because you would have been safe."

"Because they would have needed you," Alison said softly in agreement with jason. Elizabeth and Henry looked at one another. It was very rare for all three of their children to agree so completely, but when it did happen, Elizabeth had to admit it was a little daunting to go up against.

"Guys, I had no idea you would feel this way," she admitted. Jason turned to Henry.

"Did you know?" he asked. Henry hesitated, and then nodded, and Stevie stared at him.

"You didn't tell her to go?" she asked, and Henry sighed.

"No, of course not," he replied. "I couldn't do that, Stevie. I wouldn't have dreamed of asking her to leave."

"But she could have been okay!" Alison exclaimed. "Why wouldn't you want her to be safe?"

"Ali, of course I would have wanted her to be safe," Henry said. "But I know that if I had been in her place, I would have made the same decision."

"Why?" Jason asked. Henry and Elizabeth looked at one another, and it was Elizabeth who answered.

"Because of all of you," she said softly. "Because the three of you and your dad are more important to me than anything else in the world. If we were going down like that, we were going down together."

"But if even one of us could have made it out-" Alison began, sounding almost desperate. Henry sighed, shaking his head as he took Elizabeth's hand again.

"You guys are making good points," Henry began, and they all looked at him. "And I get it," he continued. "I get that you would want Mom to go somewhere safe if she had the chance. But what you're missing is something you can't possibly understand because none of you are parents." Elizabeth ran her thumb over his hand as he spoke, as if she knew how hard these words were for him. She did know, he reminded himself, and in gratitude for her, he squeezed her hand lightly. "I know you think you can wrap your head around everything, and I thought so too, when I was your age. Then I became a husband and a parent. There is nothing that could tear either of us away from the three of you at a moment like that. There are other people who can rebuild the world after everything's fallen apart- if, god forbid, that were to happen. But-" he shook his head, looking around at the three of them. "Nothing could replace this. And if one of us was safe, we'd be without the other." He looked over at Elizabeth, met her eyes, and thought for a brief moment about a world without her in it. He almost physically shuddered at the thought, swallowed hard, and returned his gaze to their children. "Neither of us would want that," he said.

"I appreciate that you would want me to be safe," Elizabeth said softly, drawing their attention to her. "And," she added, "that you're aware enough to think that the world would need my perspective. But your dad is right." She shook her head, and reached out to tuck a strand of Stevie's light hair behind her ear. "I could never have left you," she said quietly. "Any of you. That's not a reality I would want to live in."

The children fell silent after hearing the words their parents spoke on the subject. None of them spoke for a few moments. Then, Stevie leaned in and hugged Elizabeth tightly. Elizabeth let go of Henry's hand to hold her daughter tightly.

"I'm just really glad we're all okay," Stevie breathed, and Elizabeth blinked back tears as she ran her hand over stevie's curls.

"Me too, baby," she said softly. Stevie pulled back and Elizabeth looked around at all of them.

"I want you to know that we're doing what we can to avoid another situation like this one," she told them seriously. "Things like this happen, and nuclear war is always a possibility, but what happened here could have been prevented and I'm going to do everything I can to make sure that next time, it is."

"We know," Jason said softly. Alison nodded and when Elizabeth glanced at Stevie, it was to find her nodding her head as well.

"You do?" Elizabeth asked.

"Yes," Alison answered. "If anyone can change the world like that, Mom, it's you."

And then, as if on cue, all three McCord children stood up and moments later, Elizabeth and Henry were alone in the living room, looking at one another. Silently, Henry wrapped her up in his arms and held her tightly as she buried her face against his neck, tears streaming down both his cheeks and hers. They just held one another there in the quiet, words neither necessary nor enough to express what they were both feeling. Their family was together, and just then, that was all that mattered.


	67. Baseball and Bandaids

**Prompt: Henry and/or Elizabeth are playing baseball with one of the little McCords. When they hurt one of their parents by hitting them in the head with the ball, their child is hysterical and never wants to play again.**

Spring sunshine streamed from the sky and settled over the farm. Outside, near the barn, the five McCords were gathered for a Sunday afternoon baseball game. Thirteen-year-old Stevie, nine-year-old Alison, and seven-year-old Jason were all content to spend the afternoon with their mom and dad, and Henry and Elizabeth were just soaking it all up. They knew that soon, the time would come when their kids would not be so willing to spend such extensive amounts of time with them. With Stevie on the cusp of the teenage years, those days were almost certainly slowing to a stop. Henry and Elizabeth were determined to get in as many Sunday afternoons and Saturday mornings and random weeknight ice cream outings as possible.

"Alright, Team McCord!" Henry called from where he stood at the center of the group.

"Jason, your turn to bat, bud," Elizabeth said, calling their youngest forward. "Henry, switch places with me!"

He loped toward her and switched places, Elizabeth running forward to take the place of pitcher. The girls were on second and fourth base, respectively, watching the action from where they stood. It was far from a formal game, considering that there were no teams, but the McCords were having a good time nonetheless. Elizabeth shook her long blonde hair out in the sunshine to re-tie it in a ponytail and Henry had to force himself to look away. He'd been lead to believe that with age and children, his attraction to his wife was likely to wane. It hadn't happened; if anything, he was more attracted to and in love with her now than ever before. He instructed Jason and watched as Elizabeth pitched him a ball. Jason, though only seven, hit it very effectively. The ball soared through the air; Stevie, Alison and Henry cheered. Jason began to run, smiling broadly. He loved to make his mom and dad happy, and this was a surefire way to do it. However, Jason had barely turned away from home base when he realized something was wrong.

"Elizabeth!" Henry called. The ball had flown back at its thrower, and had hit Elizabeth in the side of the head. Caught off guard, she'd stumbled backwards and fallen, and was now sitting on the grass with her hand on her head. Jason turned around and his heart sunk at the sight. The girls froze and Henry ran to the center of the field where his wife was sitting.

"Baby, are you okay?" he asked quickly as he knelt next to her.

"Agh, yeah," Elizabeth groaned as Henry moved her hand away from her head with a gentle touch on her wrist. He examined her head, which was already beginning to swell. For a seven year old, their kid had a decent swing.

"Mom!" Stevie and Alison had joined them, and Jason was still hovering at the outskirts; none of them had noticed him yet.

"Are you okay?" Stevie asked, looking vaguely fearful behind her tough teenage face.

"I'm fine, sweetie," Elizabeth said in an attempt to be reassuring. Her head would be pounding later but she was okay.

"Come on," Henry said, standing and holding his hand out to help her up. "Let's get some ice on that."

"Yeah," Elizabeth agreed. She looked around. "Wait, where's-"

She looked up and caught sight of her youngest, standing rooted in place with tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Go ahead and get the ice, Henry," she said. "Take the girls, and I'll be in with Jason in a moment, okay?" He eyed her' cautiously; it was a minor thing, but it was still a head injury. Elizabeth, correctly interpreting his expression, rolled her eyes.

"I'll be fine," she intoned, and then she was gone, heading toward Jason. She knelt before her crying youngest child and looked up at him.

"Baby, it's okay," she soothed, switching seamlessly from wife mode to mom mode in an instant. She brushed his hair from his forehead and smiled reassuringly. "Hey, don't cry darling," she said.

"Mama, I didn't mean to," Jason sobbed. Elizabeth nodded her head. "I'm sorry," he cried. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Oh, sweet boy, I know," she said softly. "I know you didn't. Come here," she said. She wrapped him in a hug and he clung to her. She felt it in her heart; Jason was still so little, and even in moments like this, she couldn't help but treasure every bit of his childhood. He was her baby, after all.

"It's okay, Jason," she said as he held tight to her, his small body shaking with sobs. "It was just an accident, you're not in trouble."

"I hurt your head," Jason sobbed.

"I'm okay, baby. It's just a bump. Mama's fine, okay?"

"I'm never playing baseball ever again," Jason cried against her shoulder. Elizabeth smiled slightly at that, drawing him close as she stood from her crouch. Jason wrapped his legs around her waist and she held him up.

"That's okay, darling. We'll see how you feel about that next weekend, okay? You don't have to decide right now," she told him. He shook his head, which he had not moved from the crook of his mother's neck.

"I hate baseball," Jason said and Elizabeth forced herself not to laugh.

"Why?" she asked as she headed back towards the house.

"Because baseball made me hurt you!" he exclaimed, and Elizabeth thought her heart might actually melt.

"Mama's fine, sweetheart," she reminded him. "Just a bump, remember? Daddy's going to get some ice and we're going to put that on there and then I'll be good as new, alright?"

"I still hate it," he mumbled, and she smiled as she balanced him on her hip to open the screen door.

"That's okay," she said softly. "You can hate baseball right now if you want to."

She smiled slightly at Henry as she sat down in a kitchen chair. Henry stood beside her, lightly brushing her hair off of her temple, which was starting to look bruised.

"Here," he said softly as he pressed an ice pack against her head. She smiled her thanks up at him and Jason finally looked up. Elizabeth, whose hands were still free thanks to henry, smiled gently at her son and wiped the tears from his cheeks. He eyd the ice pack and she smiled reassuringly at him.

'It's okay," she said. "The ice is just going to make it feel better."

"Mama, I'll get you a bandaid," Jason said, and then he had climbed off her lap and run into the laundry room. Elizabeth smiled slightly after him and Henry ran his other hand along her jaw.

"You okay?" he asked. She nodded slightly.

"Yes, but we might have a problem" she replied.

"What's that?" Henry asked.

"Our son has decided he hates baseball." Henry laughed.

"We'll see how he feels next weekend," he remarked; Elizabeth couldn't help but laugh at his echo of what she had told Jason. Just then, their youngest returned with a Superman bandaid.

"Can I put it on?" he asked. "I'll be really gentle," he added earnestly.

"Okay, Jace," Henry said, and Elizabeth took the ice pack away from her head. Henry helped Jason apply the bandaid so that he didn't put too much pressure on Elizabeth's tender head.

"A kiss to make it better," Jason said, and Henry smiled as he held his son up level with Elizabeth's head. Jason leaned over and pressed a feather-light kiss to Elizabeth's bandaid.

"Thank you, baby, I feel better already," Elizabeth proclaimed, and Jason smiled slightly.

"Go play with your sister, buddy, we'll call you when dinner's ready," Henry said, and with that Jason ran off, leaving the two of them alone. Henry pulled a chair up beside his wife and took the ice pack back from her, leaning his elbow on the table to brace himself as he held the ice pack for her.

"You know why he went for Superman, right?" Henry asked.

"No, why?" Elizabeth chuckled. Henry leaned in and kissed her lightly with a small, sweet smile.

"Because he thinks you're a superhero- and he's right," Henry replied.

"Supermom, maybe," Elizabeth acquiesced.

"Supermom, definitely."


	68. Prepared

**Prompt: Henry reassures the kids that everything between them is going to be fine. Not even all of Elizabeth's CIA training in deception can keep the surprise off of her face, because she's been waiting for him to ask for a divorce.**

Things between Henry and Elizabeth had been rough lately, to say the least. She couldn't recall a time in their marriage when things had been this bad. They were barely talking, let alone really communicating the way they always had. Truthfully, Elizabeth was scared. She was starting to believe that this was going to be the end. In a sense, she'd even prepared herself for it. If Henry were to turn to her and ask for a divorce, she wouldn't have been surprised and that alone was enough to break her heart. She wanted to talk to him about it, but she wasn't really sure how to anymore. He seemed so distant and closed off, and Elizabeth spent most nights crying herself to sleep or else staying over at her office.

And their kids had finally noticed.

One plus to having teenagers was that they were all so busy that they hadn't really had time to notice the way their parents' idealistic and loving marriage had devolved to a sort of silent engagement that no one was happy with. It had been this way for weeks, and the kids had finally taken note.

"Dad?" Stevie asked. Her siblings watched her; there were telltale signs that the kids had discussed this behind the scenes, and Stevie was merely the nominee to bring it up with Henry and Elizabeth. Henry looked up at her from the kitchen table.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Are you and Mom going to work this out or are you going to get a divorce?" she asked, going straight for the heart of the matter. Elizabeth's hands stilled on the dishes at the words. She glanced back over her shoulder at the kids. They were all watching Henry raptly.

"Divorce?" he repeated. "Guys, no. Mom and I are going to be fine," he said, his voice taking on a calm and reassuring tone that Elizabeth hadn't heard in a while. Elizabeth turned around, unable to stop herself from looking completely shocked.

"Does Mom know that?" Jason asked when he got a glimpse of Elizabeth's face. Henry looked over at her, meeting her eyes. He seemed to see her for the first time in weeks, and she watched his face soften. Henry could see the hurt in her eyes, and it hit him suddenly what he'd done to her. He could have kicked himself at the idea of that.

"Can you guys give us a minute?" Henry asked. The kids looked at each other and nodded, heading up the stairs as a unit and leaving Henry and Elizabeth alone.

"I didn't know that," she said quietly, and Henry stood, approaching her but stopping just short of where she stood.

"I can see that," he sighed. "Listen, Elizabeth- I'm sorry for how I've been acting lately." She raised her eyebrows at him.

"Henry," she sighed. "I've just been waiting for you to ask for a divorce."

Her words stung, so much so that Henry physically stepped back. Elizabeth leaned her hip against the counter. She shook her head, shrugged her shoulders, and met his gaze. He was struck by how hopeless she looked.

"I had no idea it had gotten that bad," Henry admitted, and she laughed mirthlessly.

"Didn't miss me when I spent three nights in a row at the office?" she asked, her tone sharp, and Henry hung his head.

I did miss you," he said quietly. "I just didn't know what to say. I've been so caught up in my own head, Elizabeth, I'm- I'm so sorry."

She seemed to deflate before him; truthfully, Elizabeth didn't have the energy to fight with him. She just wanted her husband back.

"What are we going to do about this, Henry? Because talking about it is just not enough. If this isn't going to lead to anything, I need you to tell me that now. Because I can't- I can't do this if it's not going to get any better."

"Elizabeth, I don't want to lose you," Henry said. "I've messed up, but I love you just as much as I always have. I can't imagine my life without you." He sighed heavily, and she could visibly see the remorse in his eyes.

"I'll do whatever I have to do, to fix this," he vowed. She nodded; he was ablaze with honesty, and she believed him.

"Okay," she said. "Well that has to start today, alright? You've got to talk to me, Henry. We can't fix this if you don't trust me."

He nodded his head agreeably.

"I know," he said. "I'm so sorry, babe. I never meant for it to be like this."

She couldn't help but soften at that.

"I know you didn't," she assured him. "Let's just start from here, okay?"

He nodded, and she could see him hesitate. Knowing what he wanted to do, she took a step forward and brought them together, wrapping her arms around him. He relaxed slightly under her touch, and she sighed against his shoulder. It felt good to be in his arms again, and she was hopeful, even if it was only the very first step in what was sure to be a lengthy process.

"I love you, Elizabeth," he breathed against her. She felt her heart skip a beat in her chest; those words still carried such power over her, even in the midst of this difficult time in their story.

"I love you too," she said softly. She looked up at him.

"Are we going to be alright?" she asked, and he was struck by the way she looked at him, with such hope and apprehension. He couldn't help but be reminded of their early days, when she was a young, vulnerable, guarded young woman who didn't know who she could trust.

"We're going to be fine," he assured her. He leaned in and brushed his lips lightly against hers.

"Can I help you with the dishes?" he asked, and she nodded. She smiled slightly at him; she couldn't help but feel hopeful at the return of everything that they had always been.

On the stairwell, the McCord children looked at one another and smiled; things were going to be alright.


	69. Thanksgiving '89

**Prompt: Maureen criticizes Elizabeth's cooking, and Henry is livid.**

 _Thanksgiving Day, 1989_

Elizabeth was holding a casserole dish as she climbed the steps to the McCord family home, and she was pretty sure she'd never been more nervous. It hadn't been easy, letting Henry McCord into her life, but now he was firmly planted there and she intended to keep him around for a long, long time. Maybe partially because she didn't want to go through the process of letting someone get to know her like that again, but mostly because he was her absolute favorite person on the planet.

And she was about to meet his family for the first time.

Henry had been cautious about bringing her home to meet them; their relationship had still been so new the year before when the holidays had come around, and they hadn't even needed to worry about it. He'd gone home with her over the summer, but it had been just the two of them for the majority of the time. That had been a hurdle, and the first time they'd discussed financial and class differences. Elizabeth felt they'd navigated that well, though, and she'd been adamant that money didn't make a difference to her. She couldn't wait to meet the family of the man who had changed her life, but Henry had warned her that they weren't all very easy to get along with. Elizabeth had insisted, though; she wanted to meet them, all of them. She hadn't spent a holiday surrounded by people in years, and she had to admit that she was excited. Even so, her stomach churned as they headed for the front door.

"You ready?" Henry asked. She nodded determinedly.

"Yes," she answered, and he smiled as he leaned in to kiss her cheek.

"Let's go," he said as he reached for the door.

By the time Thanksgiving dinner was served- including Elizabeth's casserole contribution- she'd met them all. Henry's mother, Alice, was a delight. Elizabeth could see where Henry's kind, thoughtful nature came from. His brother was nice, if a little bit distant, and his youngest sibling, Erin, was extroverted and easy to talk to. His father, Patrick, was a bit of a different story. He was gruff and had a hard exterior, but Elizabeth, in her perceptive nature, could see a kind heart there nonetheless. The elder of Henry's sisters, Maureen, was quite the most difficult of the bunch. She was forceful and brash, and Elizabeth felt immediate coldness from her. She was pretty sure Maureen couldn't have liked her less, and tried to avoid her. Henry's family, she was learning, were a little bit overwhelming after spending so much time without a family around her. Henry took her hand under the table, though, and that made her feel somewhat more calm. She tangled her fingers with his and listened to Shane and Patrick talk about the Cowboys/Eagles game.

"The Eagles have got it in the bag," Shane was saying gleefully. They've got no chance!"

Elizabeth didn't care about football very much, but a glance at the television set in the living room had her agreeing with Shane; the Eagles were winning, 27 to 0, and the game was almost over.

"Turn that thing off," Alice instructed. Erin dutifully switched it off and then scampered away, not wanting to face the wrath of her dad and her brother. Henry just shook his head.

"Oh, hush, you both know who's winning the game," Alison said "It's Thanksgiving, and we have a guest. Behave yourselves for a couple of hours, would you?" Elizabeth smiled slightly to herself; she couldn't help but like Henry's mom, who seemed like a loving, but no-nonsense type of woman.

Soon, everyone was eating and Elizabeth was starting to feel a little bit more relaxed. The prayer had made her slightly uncomfortable, but she'd gotten over it pretty quickly and the food was amazing.

"What is this?" Maureen asked as she picked at something on her plate, disgust plain in her tone. Elizabeth peered over at the plate reflexively, her heart dropping as she realized that Maureen was talking about the casserole Elizabeth had made. She knew she wasn't fantastic in the kitchen, but the recipe had been simple and she'd not wanted to show up empty-handed. She had wanted to make a good first impression on the McCords, and she had thought it was going well- until now.

Henry had noticed too, and Maureen's criticisms were out in full force now.

"Did someone dump a boatload of salt in this?" she was asking. "Ugh!"

"Maureen."

Elizabeth glanced over at Henry at the sound of his voice, dangerously low and sharper than she'd ever heard him speak.

"Knock it off," he said.

"Why, because your fancy girlfriend made it?' Maureen sneered. "Just because she's too rich to bother to know how to cook for herself doesn't mean I need to eat the stuff."

Elizabeth felt frozen to the spot, as if she couldn't move. Her fingers tightened around Henry's under the table as he tensed.

"Stop," Henry said.

"Alright, guys," Alice said. "Maureen, cool it; if you don't like something, keep your mouth shut. Henry, watch your tone."

"She can't just-" Henry began, but fell silent at a look from his mother, sitting back in his chair and looking furious. Alice turned to Elizabeth.

"Don't listen to Maureen, dear," she said. "I had some and I thought it was just fine."

Elizabeth managed a small smile, but somehow she wasn't so hungry anymore.

Later that night in the car, Henry was still tense.

"Henry?" Elizabeth asked timidly. "Are you okay?"

He sighed, taking her hand on the center console.

"I'm sorry about Maureen," he said. She smiled slightly.

"It's okay, Henry," she assured him. "I get it. It's fine."

"It's not," he argued. "She doesn't have the right to talk to you like she did today. I hate that she's like that. I- I just wanted you to have a family holiday for once and actually be able to enjoy it."

"I did have a family holiday," Elizabeth said softly. "Your family may be loud and messy and difficult sometimes, Henry, but...they're your family. I was upset at first, but then later I was watching you play with your siblings in the yard and I realized that that's what family is. I appreciate you being defensive of me, but I had a better Thanksgiving today than I've had in a long time. You don't need to apologize, Henry."

He squeezed her hand lightly and nodded.

"Well," he said a moment later, "it's a good thing you enjoyed today, because that's what every McCord family holiday is like."

To Elizabeth, that sounded perfect.


	70. Crepes

**Prompt: Elizabeth is jokingly bitter about not being invited to the royal wedding, so Henry wakes up early to make breakfast for his girls so they can all watch it together.**

"I'm so excited for Saturday," Alison sighed.

"Why, what's Saturday?" Jason asked.

"The royal wedding," Stevie answered for her sister; even Stevie, who was so determined to be grown up and professional these days, could not avoid the excitement of the weekend's biggest event. Jason, however, seemed quite impervious to it, rolling his eyes in response.

"It's romantic," Stevie said in defense.

"I can't wait to see the dress," Alison said, a dreamy quality to her voice.

"I'm still annoyed that I don't get to see the dress in person," Elizabeth remarked from where she stood across the kitchen. Henry leaned back and sighed as a small smile tugged at his features.

"Babe, are you ever going to let that go?" he asked lightly.

"Mmm, probably not," she answered.

"Who cares if you were invited to the royal wedding," Jason began, and Elizabeth turned to him, covering his mouth with her hand.

"Because love is a lie, we know," she said quietly. Henry stifled a laugh at that.

"Whatever," Jason sighed as he headed upstairs.

Elizabeth leaned over the back of Henry's chair, with her arms wrapped around him. Henry leaned his head back and turned to press a kiss to her cheek.

"I'm sorry you didn't get an invite," he said. "You know you're always number one on my guest list."

Elizabeth smiled even as she rolled her eyes and kissed him lightly. It was a mark of how caught up their daughters were in the romance of the royal wedding that neither of them berated their parents for their open affection. As life in the McCord house continued to move forward, Henry watched his wife interact with their daughters, a plan forming in the back of his mind.

 _4:15 a.m; May 19, 2018_

Henry slipped from his bed into the darkness of the master bedroom, glancing over his shoulder at Elizabeth to ensure that she was still sleeping soundly. Satisfied that she was, he rubbed his eyes and moved toward the door. Downstairs, Henry poured a cup of coffee; he was in for a long day, but he knew it was going to be worth it. After his first dose of caffeine, he set to work, and by the time the house began to stir with life forty-five minutes later, Henry was pretty proud of his work.

"What's happening?" Elizabeth asked, sounding sleepy, as she descended the stairs in her pajamas. Henry smiled up at her as she rounded the island. She wrapped her arm around his waist and he drew her in close, reveling in her sleep-warmed skin and the familiar scent of her shampoo. He kissed her lightly and handed her a cup of coffee he'd just prepared for her. He watched bliss wash over her face as she took a sip and chuckled lightly.

"I made breakfast," he said as he leaned in to steal another kiss. Suddenly, she seemed to notice what was spread out on the counter before her, and her eyes lit up.

"You made crepes?" she asked.

"Mmhmm," he confirmed.

"Guys, your dad is a genius and a saint," Elizabeth proclaimed as she looked up and saw Stevie and Alison coming down the stairs. They were both yawning, but Alison quickly bounded down the few remaining stairs.

"Crepes?" Stevie asked, sounding hopeful.

"Yes," Elizabeth answered. Henry smiled.

"There's sweet and savory fillings so you can choose," Henry said as he handed a plate to Elizabeth.

"Oh, you are seriously the best," Elizabeth said happily.

"Well, it's Harry and Meghan's wedding day," Henry remarked, and Elizabeth laughed.

"Come on, come on, come on!" Alison urged a few minutes later. She, her sister, and their parents all gathered on the couch in the den, settling in for royal wedding coverage. Henry glanced over at his wife as she ate her crepes and thought back to his own wedding day. He wished he could relive that one, because while he didn't care at all about the British royals, that had been one of the most magical days of his life. This, however, was pretty much magical too, he thought as he watched Elizabeth gleefully enjoy the breakfast he'd made while the girls argued over what kind of dress Meghan would be wearing.

"Good?" Henry asked. Elizabeth nodded her head.

"So good," she answered. "Thank you for this." Henry shook his head.

"You know I love it," he replied. He smiled, leaning in to kiss her temple. "And you," he added in a low voice. She smiled, shaking her head as they both turned their attention to the girls, who were asking for their opinions on the dress.

Later, crepes consumed and all of them watching as Meghan Markle made her way up the chapel stairs by herself, Alison and Stevie were in a passionate and agreeable discussion about what a feminist icon the new Duchess was, walking halfway up the aisle by herself the way that she was. Henry, meanwhile, turned to Elizabeth, smiling softly as he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"You know, for what it's worth," he began as she looked over at him, "I think this is better than attending the royal wedding."

Elizabeth laughed lightly, leaning against him.

"Truthfully," she began, "me too." She shrugged her shoulders and then stretched to kiss him sweetly.

"Besides," she whispered. "I married my prince a long time ago."

Henry couldn't have agreed with the sentiment behind that any more if he'd tried.


	71. To Get To Her

Elizabeth held the phone to her ear with a shaking hand, hoping that Henry would answer. She could barely breathe, panic coursing through her. She'd made it through the plane ride- somehow- but now that she was alone in her hotel room on her first trip overseas since the disaster that Iran had been, she couldn't seem to think straight. She'd taken the medication she'd been prescribed, even though she hated it and everything that it stood for, but it still was not enough to calm her. She needed Henry. Elizabeth hated being needy, but there was one thing she'd gotten used to needing, and that was her husband. Over time, she'd come to accept the power that he had over her, the ability he possessed to touch her or talk to her and relax her unlike anything else, even when she was a mess. Like now.

"Please pick up, Henry," she whispered as she watched her free hand tremble in her lap. There was a click and then Henry's voice met her.

"Hello?" he asked. She exhaled heavily and Henry was concerned immediately.

"Elizabeth? Baby, you okay?" he asked, and she let out a choked sob.

"Henry," she managed. "I can't-"

"Okay, sweetheart, listen to me," Henry said slowly. His heart was hammering in his chest, but he forced himself to remain calm, at least until he knew what was going on. "Are you safe?" he asked.

"Mmhmm," she answered, and Henry breathed a small sigh of relief. He'd been more nervous about this trip than she had prior to her leaving, and hearing her crying on the other end of the line had definitely not helped ease his fears.

"Okay," he said softly. "Can you tell me what's going on, babe?"

"I just can't- the plane was- I-". He could hear the frustration in her voice, and her breathing was becoming even more sharp and intense as she tried to articulate herself through her panic. Henry had a pretty good idea of what was happening, though.

"Okay, Elizabeth, did you take the medicine the doctor gave you?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, and he could her the resentment in her voice beneath the fear. It heartened him to hear that, with it coming the knowledge that his Elizabeth was just below the surface of everything she'd been through.

"Good," he murmured. "I know that was hard for you, baby."

"It's not helping," she answered. "So I-"

"So you called me," Henry finished calmly. He was gathering that it had been the plane ride that had triggered her, and he was amazed that she'd made it through it on her own. Unless she hadn't.

"Babe, where are you right now?" he asked.

"In my hotel room," she whispered. He closed his eyes as he thought of her suffering alone on the plane.

"I'm so proud of you for getting through that, Elizabeth," he told her quietly. "You did it, babe, it's okay. You're safe now, alright?"

'Henry," she sobbed.

"I know, sweetheart," he assured her. "I know. What can I do?" He tried not to sound as desperate as he felt, wishing he knew how to help her from across the world.

"Just talk to me," she whispered. "I just- I need to hear you."

That, Henry could do.

"Okay," he agreed. "It's going to be alright, Elizabeth. I'm right here, okay? You just close your eyes and focus on my voice." She listened to him, trying to control her breathing. She curled herself against a pillow and Henry spoke softly to her as he started to rummage around for his passport. He knew what he had to do. He glanced at the clock and calculated the difference. If he hurried, he could probably make it by the time she woke up.

"Baby, are you in bed?" he asked softly.

"Yeah," she breathed.

"Good, okay," he said softly. "Feeling any better?"

"Yeah," she said again. "But-" she hesitated for a moment. "Could you stay until I fall asleep?"

"Of course, babe," he assured her. "I'll be right here with you, alright?"

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"Of course," he said. "It's no problem, Elizabeth, you know that. I'm right here."

Less than an hour later, once he was sure that his wife was asleep, Henry checked in with the kids and let them know the plan, and then he was on his way to the airport.

Henry thanked his lucky stars for good timing when he arrived at Elizabeth's hotel across the ocean in good time. Everything had fallen into place the way it had needed to, and he was pretty sure she would still be asleep, but it didn't stop him from compulsively checking his phone anyway.

"Dr. McCord," said Matt, looking surprised to find Henry at the hotel. He smiled in a friendly manner at his wife's security detail.

"Hi," he said. "Think you can get me into Elizabeth's room?"

"Of course," Matt replied easily; he knew better than to ask when it came to the McCords. He'd learned that lesson a long time ago. He unlocked the door with his key card and watched as Henry slipped quietly inside. To Henry's relief, Elizabeth was sleeping peacefully in the bed, a pillow pulled to her chest. His heart stumbled in his chest at the sight of her, and he could no longer stomach the idea of waiting a single second to hold her. He didn't even bother to take his shoes off before he sat down next to her. He ran his hand lightly through her hair and she snapped into awareness, looking fearful as she pulled away from him.

"It's okay," Henry said soothingly, putting his hands up for good measure. "It's just me, babe. It's alright."

Elizabeth's blue eyes finally focused on him and confusion washed over her features.

"Henry?" she asked. "What's going on?" He smiled reassuringly.

"I came as soon as you were asleep last night," he told her. "I didn't want you to have to be alone when you fly back home."

Elizabeth could have cried at his deep care for her, but instead she threw herself in his arms. He wrapped her securely against his chest and held her tight.

"I can't believe you flew all the way out here," she mumbled, but on the inside she was incredibly grateful that he had. She could already feel the tightness in her chest fading away with henry's presence. It was still there, but it was so much more bearable now. She buried herself in Henry's arms and he held her, reveling in the familiar way that she fit against him and her sleep-warmed skin as he kissed her head.

"Thank you for coming, Henry," she breathed.

"I would fly across universes to get to you if I thought you needed me to, Elizabeth," he said softly. It was dramatic, but honest, and exactly what she needed to hear. She curled closer to him in response.

"You're seriously the best," she said, and he grinned at her.

"I know," he answered, mostly just to get a laugh from her- it worked, and Henry smiled as she returned her head to its place on his shoulder.

"You doing okay?" he asked her softly, his voice taking on a more serious note.

"Yeah," she replied. "Better now."

"Elizabeth," he began, and she glanced up at him. He held her gaze, running his hand along her jaw lovingly. "I am so, so proud of you."

"Why?" Elizabeth scoffed. "I couldn't even handle a plane ride."

"No," Henry argued. "You _did_ handle a plane ride, baby. You did that. You made it here, and you took the medication even though I know you hate it, and you called me. You knew what you needed and you asked for it. That took a lot, and it's something to be proud of. Okay?"

She nodded slightly, and leaned in to catch him in a sweet kiss that she hoped spoke for her. Henry smiled slightly against her; message received.

Come here," she murmured, tugging him toward the mattress. "Let's get some sleep in before I have to get up and get ready."

"Or…"

"Yeah, or that," Elizabeth agreed with a laugh. Suddenly, this trip didn't seem so scary anymore. With Henry at her side, everything was just a little bit easier.


	72. Screaming

**Prompt: On her first night in the McCord household, Elizabeth wakes Henry's entire family with a nightmare.**

Elizabeth had been fine when they'd gone to bed; maybe Maureen and Patrick had been a little harsh here and there, but Elizabeth was tough and she'd held her own with them. In fact, Henry had been incredibly proud of her, and had told her as much when they'd settled into bed that night.

However, somewhere around two forty-five, Henry jolted awake, his instincts on high alert as he shot into a sitting position. Elizabeth was screaming, and Henry was wide awake instantly, every nerve in his body on high alert as he searched their surroundings for the threat. It took only a few seconds to determine what was happening. Satisfied that she was safe, he shifted from his protective instincts to a different set of skills.

"Elizabeth," he called out to her, reaching out to shake her gently. Her screams tore at him, and he found himself desperate to make them stop. "Wake up, Elizabeth," he said. It didn't take very long to rouse her, but it felt like an eternity. She woke with a gasp, chest heaving with ragged breath as her hands searched frantically, searching for something to ground herself with. He reached out to her and she looked over at him, blue eyes wild with fear. He gently took her into his arms and she clung to him, fingers wrapping around the fabric of his shirt so tightly that her knuckles were turning white. She didn't seem to be fully aware of what was happening; though she trusted Henry more than anyone else, she was still often guarded with him at times.

"Hey, you're okay," he assured her. "You're okay, Elizabeth."

She was sobbing, unintelligible words spilling from her mouth as broken syllables that he didn't understand.

"Shh, shh," he soothed. "It's okay. You're alright."

Moments later, the situation had gotten significantly worse when the majority of Henry's family appeared at the door of the bedroom, his mother leading the charge.

"Henry?" she asked. "What's wrong?"

In his arms, Elizabeth was crying even harder, turning her face into his neck, and he smoothed his hand over her hair, holding her tight.

"Why is she screaming?" Maureen asked, sounding exasperated already.

"She's not screaming," Henry snapped. "Everything is fine."

"Yeah, it really sounded fine when she woke up the whole house," Patrick grumbled. Henry's mother turned to him, glaring.

"Patrick, she can hear you," she hissed. Her husband shrugged, but fell silent.

"Henry, dear?" she asked quietly. "We just wanted to make sure Elizabeth was okay."

' _That's what you wanted to do,'_ Henry thought, but didn't speak his thoughts aloud.

"Yes," he said shortly. "She's okay. Thank you."

"Great," Maureen scoffed, and turned away from the door. Henry's other two siblings had not spoken, and silently moved away from the door to follow Maureen.

"Alright," Henry's mother said softly. "Come on, Pat," she said, and pulled him away, closing the door behind her.

"Henry," Elizabeth choked.

"It's okay, baby," he assured her. "It's alright. I've got you."

She took a shuddering breath and he looked down at her.

"You want to talk about it?" he asked her softly.

"They're going to hate me," she mumbled.

"What?" he asked. "No, of course they won't."

"They will," she said miserably. "This was my first time meeting them, and my nightmares woke them all up."

"It's okay, Elizabeth," he said softly. "You couldn't help it. And if they can't understand that, that's their issue, okay? Not yours, and not mine."

She silently snuggled closer to him, seeking comfort in his closeness.

"I couldn't find you," she admitted, her voice so soft that he wouldn't have heard it had the room not been so silent beforehand.

"I'm right here," he said, and it was a quiet promise to her, one that resonated with her. She nodded, leaning into him as she closed her eyes. Her throat was sore from screaming and she found herself exhausted by the whole ordeal.

"It's okay, sweetheart," he assured her, holding her close as he tucked the blankets in around her. "I'm right here; you can rest."

Elizabeth nodded slightly; she could already feel herself falling asleep again. The next morning would bring the kind of interactions she was dreading, but that was then and this was now. For now, she could rest.

After all, she and Henry were there together, safe and sound, and at the end of the day, that was all that really mattered.


	73. The Wedding Dress

**Prompt: Elizabeth is shopping for her wedding dress and she gets upset that her mother can't be there.**

 **I realized after I wrote this that I'm not sure that the timeline actually fits for Isabelle to have known Elizabeth at this time, but I didn't want to go back and change it so let's just go with it.**

Elizabeth looked at herself in the full length mirror, simple white wedding gown clinging in all the right places and hanging off of her five-foot-eight frame just as it should. It was gorgeous, and she felt like a bride, and Isabelle was making remarks about how speechless Henry was going to be- and the dress was perfect. Yet, Elizabeth felt so empty inside, and all she could think about in that moment in the bridal shop was her mother. Her mom would have loved this, would have been all over the wedding planning and helping her only daughter choose a dress. And this one, this dress, her mother would have adored. Elizabeth could practically feel her heart sinking in her chest.

"Well?" Isabelle asked. She'd been somewhat reluctant to come along, but seemed to gain some sort of pleasure from making perverse comments that Elizabeth couldn't help but laugh at, even as she shushed Isabelle fervently.

"I want to go home," Elizabeth said, and Isabelle stared at her.

"What?" she asked, and Elizabeth shook her head.

"Don't push me, Isabelle, it's just- I can't do this today," she snapped, and then she was gone. When she emerged from the dressing room in her jeans and sweatshirt, Isabelle took one look at her face and kept her mouth shut; Elizabeth was grateful for that as she rode silently in Isabelle's car.

"Sorry," she sighed as they pulled up outside the apartment building where Henry and Elizabeth were living. She turned to her friend, who just watched her. "It's not you."

"I know," Isabelle said. Elizabeth nodded and reached for the door.

"I'll call you," she said.

"You better," Isabelle replied, and the ghost of a smile flickered over Elizabeth's face before the door slammed behind her and she was gone.

Inside, Elizabeth had barely crossed the threshold when all the emotion of the whole ordeal came crashing down on her. She slid to the floor and drew her knees up to her chest as tears streamed down her cheeks. Unbeknownst to Elizabeth, who thought she was alone in the apartment, Henry had come home early, and he looked up at the sound of the door. He hadn't been expecting Elizabeth back so early, and when she didn't come into the room, he stood and went to seek her out. When he found her crying on the floor, he immediately knelt before her, resting his hand on her shoulder.

"Elizabeth, baby, what's wrong?" he asked, and Elizabeth looked up at him in surprise.

"What are you doing here?" she croaked, and he shook his head.

"I got finished early," he said dismissively. "Are you okay? You're not hurt, are you?"

She shook her head.

"No, I'm- I'm not," she whispered. "I just came from wedding dress shopping."

Henry furrowed her eyebrows at her; he was missing something here, he was sure. Wedding dress shopping was supposed to be a happy thing, not something that resulted in his fiancee sitting on their apartment floor in tears.

"Okay," henry said softly. "I don't understand, babe."

Elizabeth let out something between a sob and a laugh.

"It's just- I was wearing this dress and it was so perfect, Henry," she began. "I could see myself marrying you in that dress, which is one of those cliche things that I never wanted to play into but I found myself thinking it anyway," she told him, earnest blue eyes on him. He nodded to let her know he was listening, and she continued.

"I was wearing that dress and Isabelle was making some stupid comment and I just- all of a sudden, all I could think about was my mom," she admitted. "She would have loved this, and she would have loved that dress and _you_ \- god, she would have loved you, Henry. And wedding dress shopping without her suddenly seemed so wrong and I felt so alone and I just- couldn't anymore."

Tears filled her eyes again and she looked at him, and henry could feel his heart cracking a little before she even spoke, just at the look in her eyes.

"I want my mom, Henry," she sobbed, and Henry had to bte back tears himself.

"Oh, baby," he sighed heavily, sitting down beside her and tugging her gently into his lap. She came willingly, a mark of her great trust in him- that was a small victory, considering that it never would have happened a year or two earlier. She buried her head in his neck and cried openly as he rocked her gently back and forth.

"I know," he breathed. "I know, sweetheart. It's okay. You just cry. It's okay."

She curled against him and cried for everything that she was missing, everything that her mom was missing. All the milestones that they would never experience together. Henry just held her, his heart breaking for the pain she had to go through. He had known the wedding experience might be hard for her, with her parents gone, but nothing could prepare Henry for having her fall apart like this. All he wanted was to somehow make it better for her, and knowing that he really couldn't was killing him.

"Sorry," she mumbled some time later as the tears began to stop and she started to compose herself.

"No," Henry said quickly. "Babe, you don't need to be sorry. You can feel how you feel, I get that. Never apologize for missing your parents, Elizabeth."

She nodded slightly and Henry gently wiped her tears away, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

"You know, you don't have to have a dress as far as I'm concerned," he remarked, and she laughed through her tears.

"I appreciate that, but I want to have a decent wedding and I really did love the dress," she confessed. Henry smiled slightly at her. He hesitated to ask his next question, but gathered his courage and forced himself to speak.

"Baby?" he asked tentatively and she looked up at him. "Do you want me to go with you?" asked Henry in a rush. "I mean, I know there's that whole not seeing the dress before the wedding thing, but I'm not really superstitious and I just thought maybe you would rather have me than Isabelle, which is probably-"

Elizabeth cut him off with her lips on his, fierce and passionate.

"Henry," she breathed as she pulled away, hands still pressed against his cheeks, "Let's go get a wedding dress."


	74. The Origin of Buttercup

**Prompt: Elizabeth gets thrown from a horse, and is afraid to ride again.**

Sunshine streamed down on Elizabeth, warming her shoulders and back as she took a deep breath of the spring Virginia air. She and Henry, along with their children, had been living at the farmhouse for nearly eighteen months, and they'd had the horses for six. It was kind of a dream, Elizabeth had decided. She'd been reluctant, leaving The Company. But now, things were different. She'd come around, and now she was pretty much certain that she was exactly where she was supposed to be. She'd missed horseback riding so desperately, and while she wasn't sure she'd found the perfect horse yet, the young, spirited one that Henry had claimed as his own was enough for the time being- she would find the right one soon enough.

Henry watched her as she ran the horse around the perimeter of the fence; she was so in her element here, wild and free and all that long blonde hair trapped under her helmet but still lifting in the wind behind her as she got the horse up to speed. He smiled as he leaned on the fence; it had been a hard road to get here, but they were doing so well now. Elizabeth was thriving, the children loved the space here, and Henry himself had never been happier. He no longer had to worry about Elizabeth's safety every day when she went into work, and they weren't keeping secrets from each other and their kids anymore. It made for a much happier family unit, and the horses were the icing on the cake. They were only at two for the time being; Henry's, the spirited male one, and Stevie's, who was a calm mare who was perfect for their beginner rider. Elizabeth insisted that she'd find the right one for her soon.

Henry had looked away from her when it happened. He felt a chill down his spin, impossible to explain but definitely alarming, and whirled around toward Elizabeth, pulled toward her by some invisible force. When he caught sight of what was happening, his wife on the ground and the high-strung horse across the enclosure from her, Henry wrenched the gate open and raced across the grass to get to her.

"Elizabeth!" he called, hearing the fear in his own voice. He dropped to his knees beside her, assessing the situation. She was flat on her back, eyes open and searching for him.

"Hey," he murmured. "Breathe, Elizabeth."

She took his hand when he offered it to her; soon, he was pretty sure that she was mostly okay, but the breath had been knocked out of her and he could see the panic in her eyes. She'd managed to get through her lifetime of being a horseback rider without every being thrown, and he only needed to take a glance at her to see how shaken she was. She held his hand tightly, and he looked down at her in concern.

"Babe, what hurts?" he asked. She said nothing, but nodded her head at her wrist, the opposite one from the hand he was holding. He nodded.

"Is that all?" he asked. She was wearing a helmet, so he wasn't too concerned about her head, and while he was sure her back would be bruised, that seemed otherwise okay too. She nodded her head slightly, but her breathing was still very shallow and forced, so Henry focused on that.

"Okay, Elizabeth, just breathe," he said calmly. "You're alright, baby. Just take it easy."

He gently eased her into a sitting position. Elizabeth, who was starting to calm down and whose breathing was beginning to return to its normal pace, was suddenly struck by how much her wrist hurt. She winced and Henry watched her carefully.

"Are you okay?" he asked. She shook her head.

"I think my wrist is broken," she said, and Henry nodded.

"Alright," he said, glancing at his watch. "It's only ten. We've got plenty of time to get you to the hospital before I have to get the kids."

She nodded, and he stood, reaching out to help her up. He couldn't help but notice the way she gripped his hand as she glanced back over her shoulder at the horse.

"I've never-"

"I know," Henry said soothingly, noting the way her voice wavered. "It's okay, Elizabeth. Let's not worry about it right now, alright? We'll get you some ice and I'll put the horse away. It's going to be okay."

She nodded, and as Henry led her to the house, he couldn't help but wonder what kind of effect this was going to have on her.

 _Six months later…_

"Come on, Elizabeth," Henry said as he walked through the kitchen where his wife was sitting.

"Come on where?" she asked. Henry stopped and stood in front of her.

"We're going to the barn," he said and she looked up at him. Her wrist was healed, and her bruises had long since faded, but Elizabeth had been incredibly shaken by her fall, and had avoided the horses entirely ever since.

"No, we're not," she said and Henry nodded his head.

"We are," he argued. "I have something I need to show you."

Henry had given a great deal of thought to how to lure his wife back to her passion. Now, he was certain he'd figured out the perfect solution; he just had to convince her of that.

"Henry-"

"Baby," he said, dropping to a crouch in front of her chair to look up at her with his hands resting on her legs. She met his gaze. "You've got to face this," he said gently. "You love horses. I know you're scared, but you went years and years with never getting hurt. The idea of never riding again because you got hurt once doesn't make any sense."

She knew that, but it didn't stop her from being afraid anyway.

"I know," she breathed. "But I don't want to ride."

That wasn't true; she did want to ride, very much. But she was worried about falling, and she thought it might be easier just to say she didn't want to. Henry, of course, saw right through that.

"You don't have to ride," he offered. "Just come to the barn with me, okay? Let me show you this."

Finally, Elizabeth relented and nodded her head.

"Alright," she agreed, and Henry gave her a reassuring smile as he held his hand out to her. He held her hand tightly as he led her through the yard to the barn; if he'd had to guess before her fall, he would have said nothing like this could keep Elizabeth from the horses, but he supposed it just went to show that things like this were unpredictable; he just wanted to get her back to herself. Being a horse girl had always been a huge part of her life, and Henry couldn't stand seeing her let go of that. Her steps faltered as they neared the barn, and Henry squeezed her hand.

"Babe, I'm right here," he assured her. "You're safe with me, Elizabeth, I promise. I won't make you do anything that's going to put you in danger."

She met his gaze and nodded; she couldn't help but feel a little safer with Henry's serious hazel eyes on hers like that.

"Okay," she breathed, and they walked side by side into the barn, where Elizabeth stopped short at the sight of the three horses that stood there.

"Henry?" she asked, looking at the unfamiliar one whose head was stretched inquisitively over the stall door. Henry smiled at her.

"Babe, this is Buttercup," he told her. "He's young, but he's the gentlest and most obedient horse I've ever met. And he rides like a dream."

She looked up at him.

"You bought a horse?" she asked incredulously, and Henry nodded.

"Yes, for you," he replied, and she raised her eyebrows at him.

"For me?" she repeated, and he nodded.

"Henry-" she began, but her husband shook his head, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

"Babe, just hear me out," he said. "He's literally the perfect horse for you. You were looking for one before you fell, and...Elizabeth, I can't bear to watch you give this up. Before this fall, you would never have passed up this horse. I'm trusting you're going to get back to that, and soon- once you meet this horse."

He sounded incredibly confident, and he was. He knew Elizabeth. He'd seen her watching him and Stevie when they rode recently, and caught her wistful gazes. It was time, even if she didn't know it yet.

"Alright," she sighed. The horse was gorgeous, and Elizabeth couldn't deny that she did feel a certain pull to him. Henry watched his wife closely as she gazed at Buttercup.

"Go ahead," he encouraged. "Go meet him."

She took a hesitant glance at Henry, but ultimately stepped up to the horse's stall. He did not back away from her, but rather stretched his smooth neck toward her and nuzzled his velvety nose against her outstretched hand. Henry watched a tiny smile tug at his wife's features. He smiled at the sight; this was working exactly the way he'd planned it so far.

"Hi, darling," Elizabeth said softly as she reached up to run her hand along Buttercup's neck. Buttercup nuzzled against Elizabeth's blonde hair and she laughed.

"Well?" Henry asked, leaning against the beam between the stalls with his arms crossed and a smile on his face. Elizabeth rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.

"Alright," she admitted. "You might have something here, McCord."

Henry laughed.

"He's kind of amazing," Elizabeth admitted.

"And rides like a dream," Henry reminded her, watching her face closely. She bit her lip and he smiled; exactly what he'd been hoping for.

"You want to give it a shot?" he asked, and he watched the fear flash over her face.

"I'll be right with you, I promise," Henry said. "I'm not going to let you get hurt, Elizabeth."

She turned back toward the horse, tilting her head as she looked at him.

"What do you think?" she asked softly, in a tone Henry had only heard her use with horses and small children, and which always made him smile.

Buttercup nosed her shoulder gently, and she smiled back at henry.

"Let's do it," she said, and Henry grinned. This plan, he decided a few minutes later as he watched Elizabeth ride her new horse slowly around the enclosure, might have been his best one yet. And as for Buttercup, Henry got the feeling he'd be a part of the family for a long time.


	75. Can't

**Prompt: He knows Elizabeth makes jokes like this when she's nervous, but Henry can't play along when she starts talking about him remarrying.**

"Henry."

Her voice was imploring, her eyes understanding. She stood from her perch on the chair that occupied a corner of their bedroom and approached him.

"I'm gonna be okay," she said as she drew close enough that the fabric of her shirt brushed against his skin. "I love you," she told him as she pressed her lips softly against his, wrapping her arms around his neck, enticing him into her affection as a means of reassurance.

"I will be fine," she said. She tucked her head against his neck, her hand coming up to cradle the back of his head; her touch was familiar, and he tried to allow it to bring him comfort in the silent moments between her words.

"But just in case I'm not…" she began, and her voice had taken on a teasing lilt that made his spine prickle unpleasantly.

"Are you really gonna go there?" he asked as she pulled away and approached her side of their bed.

"I think you should wait a year," she announced, and henry suddenly felt himself becoming irritated.

"And there you go," he remarked bitterly.

"To remarry," Elizabeth clarified as they each sat down on their respective sides of the bed.

"Yes, I got that," Henry snapped. "I'm not having this conversation."

"You'll be a hot commodity," Elizabeth continued, as if he hadn't said anything.

"Oh," he scoffed, hoping against hope that she would just drop it.

"I'm just saying," Elizabeth continued, gesturing with her hands as he tossed his folders aside with slightly too much force, "that for the sake of the kids, I think a year is a respectful amount of time to wait."

"Fine," Henry replied, gritting his teeth. "A year. Are we done?"

Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders.

"Well then there's the question of to whom…" she began, and Henry felt something within him snap. It was like the shattering of a frozen surface, impossible to contain as it spread.

"Elizabeth, I said I am not having this conversation, what part of that did you not get?" he snapped, listening to the sound of his own voice rising in volume. Elizabeth fell suddenly silent, staring at him.

"Henry," she began, but he cut her off.

"No. Elizabeth, just stop. No. We're not doing this," he insisted. He stood up again, pacing back and forth the length of their bed. "We can't. I can't," he said.

"Wait, Henry-"

"Elizabeth," he sighed, looking over at her with tired, earnest eyes. "Please don't make me do this."

"Okay," she said, climbing over the bed and coming to stand before him. "Okay," she repeated. "We don't have to do this."

Henry nodded, and silence settled over them.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I was just-"

"I know," Henry replied, reaching out to pull her close to his chest. She wrapped her arms around him in return and she could feel him take in a deep breath. "I know you were trying to cope, babe, but you're about to do something really dangerous and I really just can not think about losing you right now." His voice sounded on the verge of breaking, and she instinctively tightened her hold on him. He reciprocated and they stood there, arms wrapped around one another in the warmly lit bedroom.

"It'll be okay," she said.

"You can't say that," he replied softly.

"I have to say that," she countered. He nodded silently, understanding passing between them as it only could with two people who knew one another as they did.

"I promise you, Henry," she began softly, "no matter what happens, I'll do everything I can to get back home to you. Every time."

"I know," Henry replied. He buried his fingers in her hair and pressed his lips to her forehead. "I know."


	76. Fly Fishing

**Prompt: This is for Ellie; our Timea theories resulted in her asking for a fic where Elizabeth teaches Henry to fly fish, so here it is!**

The summer air was humid and sticky, and a light breeze rustled the tops of the trees, rich with the green of summer. The cool air didn't reach the ground where Henry and Elizabeth stood, but Henry didn't care. He watched Elizabeth as she walked along the path next to him, her stride powerful and purposeful even in tennis shoes on a narrow forest path. She was carrying half of the gear and he had the other half- she had insisted on splitting it evenly between them. In the air around them hung the faint scent of the bug spray that they'd sprayed on themselves by the car, and Henry could feel the sticky combination of sweat and sunscreen on his skin. He glanced over at his girlfriend and tried not to stare; in her khaki shorts and ragged, threadbare tee shirt that had "Virginia Beach" printed across her chest in faded, peeling letters, she was even more a vision than usual. Her long golden hair was braided neatly and Henry couldn't help but stare at the way the sun caught the lightest streaks of blonde and made them shine in the light. He had pretty much already decided that her legs for days and the way the light filtered through her thin tee shirt should have been illegal- or he would have thought so, if it weren't for how captivating she was in her most casual attire.

"Something on your mind?" Elizabeth asked lightly as they walked, and Henry turned to hide the blush in his cheeks. Elizabeth laughed freely; Henry was incredibly transparent in the way he had been watching her, and while had it been just anyone she would have been uncomfortable, there was and always had been something about Henry that put her at ease. He was kind and gentle, and even though he'd been staring, there was something so innately non threatening about it. They'd been dating for a short time, but Elizabeth was hopeful; Henry was unlike anyone she'd ever dated or even considered dating, and in the best possible way.

"Sorry," he said, sounding embarrassed, and elizabeth bit her lip. He was cute like that- he was cute all the time.

"Don't be," she laughed. "I was staring too."

With that, she skipped ahead of him and Henry shook his head with a small smile; Elizabeth Adams was unlike any girl he'd ever known, and he was pretty much already head over heels for her.

"Okay, did I mention I have no idea how to do this?" Henry laughed as he watched Elizabeth unpack the gear that they'd brought with them to the still section of the creek that was buried in the woods of Virginia. Elizabeth laughed over her shoulder.

"Yes, twice," she reminded him. "It's fine. I'll show you." She flashed a dazzling smile at him and Henry wished he had somewhere to sit down. He wasn't sure he'd ever get used to the way that smile caught him off guard and made his heart beat faster- truthfully, he wasn't sure he ever wanted to get used to it. He liked the feeling, and the idea that Elizabeth had that much pull on him.

"Okay," he agreed. He watched her as her practiced hands worked and marveled at her; she was a very unusual young woman. She didn't seem to have any interest in makeup or clothing, and the trivial concerns of her classmates seemed to hover far below Elizabeth's whole plane of existence. She could talk your ear off about politics or religion or psychology or mathematics or art or pretty much anything else if you let her, and she never hesitated to speak out about any of it. She could command a room with a single glance, and she didn't even seem to notice. She just lived her life, captivating everyone around her without even trying. He wasn't sure she knew it, but she was a force of nature, and Henry thought she was absolutely the most wonderful human being he'd ever met in his life.

She smiled at him again and beckoned him forward, so Henry steeped up next to her in the water and let her show him how to go through the motions of casting his line. She was so practiced at it, and he couldn't help but be captivated by the way she expertly drew it back and tossed it perfectly into the still water. Soon, after he'd fumbled it a couple of times and finally gotten it under Elizabeth's effective instruction, they were standing side by side and waiting. She looked over at him in the sunshine and he looked back, meeting her gaze.

"You're a good teacher," Henry said, and Elizabeth smiled.

"You're a good student," she replied, and Henry shrugged.

"When I want to be," he remarked, and she tilted her head ever so slightly as she surveyed him.

"You mean like when you want to impress the teacher?" she asked, and Henry laughed.

"Something like that," he answered, and Elizabeth grinned.

"Is the teacher impressed?" he inquired.

"Not with your flirting," Elizabeth fired back at him, and Henry hesitated, unsure whether she was joking or not. She laughed openly and he smiled reflexively at the sound.

"Got you, McCord," she teased, and his heart fluttered at the way she tossed his last name out like that, like it was as natural as breathing air. No one had ever called him that, not the way she was now. Not flirtatiously, with that lilt in her voice that made him want to kiss her. He swallowed hard and focused his attention on the water in front of him.

"How did you get into fly fishing?" Henry asked. Elizabeth smiled, a faint and almost wistful smile.

"My dad taught me," she answered. "When I was a little kid. My brother, too. We both like it, but me more than Will."

Henry smiled at the idea of a younger version of Elizabeth being competitive with her brother over fly fishing with their dad.

"I hope I get to meet them one day," he said, and Elizabeth just nodded; Henry noticed that something was off about her in that moment, but he didn't push.

"What about your siblings?" Elizabeth asked after a moment of amicable quiet. Henry laughed.

"They're basically awful," he stated, and she couldn't help but laugh at that. "I have three," Henry explained. "Two sisters and a brother, and I'm the eldest. Maureen is the worst. Shane and Erin are not so bad."

Elizabeth smiled at him; she couldn't imagine they could be so awful if Henry himself was as wonderful as he was.

"I hope I get to meet them one day," she said, and he smiled over at her. They looked at one another for a moment, and then looked away at the same time, each of them a different shade of pink.

"Me, too," Henry replied warmly; what he didn't tell her then, in the woods on that hot summer day was that she was the first and only girl he hoped would meet his family.

And what neither of them knew yet was that she would be.


	77. Taking Care

**Prompt: Henry is mortified when he gets sick in front of Elizabeth for the first time.**

Elizabeth had known that something wasn't right with Henry since she'd arrived at his small, but cozy, off-campus apartment at the end of her day of classes. He'd looked slightly pale and had been less talkative than usual, but when she'd asked if he was alright, he had told her that he was and carried on with what he was doing. She had brushed it aside as best she could, figuring that if something was really wrong, he'd tell her. They'd been dating for the better part of a year, and while Elizabeth still had quite a few of her walls up, she felt more open with Henry than she had with anyone for a long time. That in itself was somewhat scary to her, but she found that she liked having someone she trusted the way she trusted Henry. It was comforting, in its own terrifying way.

Now, she watched him across the kitchen as he worked to prepare dinner. He was moving more slowly than usual and seemed somewhat disoriented, or perhaps just distracted.

"Can I help?" she asked, and he glanced up, offering her a small smile.

"You sure?" he asked. She rolled her eyes.

"I can't cook, but I think I can manage to slice," she replied. Normally, that would have gotten a laugh from him, but this time it didn't. She frowned slightly, but turned her attention to slicing the vegetables he handed over to her. Soon, they found themselves across from one another at Henry's little kitchen table. He pushed his food around on his plate while she ate, barely taking any bites. She had to wonder, what was wrong with him? Was it her? The thought had not occurred to her before that moment, but now she found herself panicking internally. What if she had done something to upset him? Now, she wasn't really eating either; instead, she was searching her brain for any clues as to what she could have done to upset Henry to the point that he was barely talking to her. It didn't really make sense, but now that it had occurred to her, she seemed unable to shake the idea from her mind. She looked over at him, and found him watching her.

"Did I do something to upset you?" she asked. "Because you seem so off and I just don't understand."

Suddenly, Henry looked panicked. He looked around and stood, hesitating before his body lurched and he found himself leaning over the sink, vomiting while Elizabeth looked on. He could feel his face flushing with embarrassment, but meanwhile Elizabeth had moved from her seat to stand next to him. Mortified that he was throwing up in front of his girlfriend, having been sure he wouldn't be able to make it to the bathroom, Henry groaned. Elizabeth, meanwhile, was slightly relieved as all the pieces clicked into place. He wasn't upset; he was sick. It made so much sense now. However, her relief was short-lived. She hated seeing him like this; it made her feel as if her heart was breaking inside her chest, a feeling she was not so familiar with. It was another sign of her deep attachment to Henry, but she didn't have time to worry about that now. She ran her hand over his back, her instincts taking over in spite of herself.

"It's okay," she murmured. "It's alright. You're okay."

Henry slammed his eyes closed.

"I'm so sorry," he muttered hoarsely, wincing at the raw feeling in his throat.

"What?" she asked. "For what?"

"This is- you shouldn't have to see this," he sighed in frustration. "I thought I could make it through tonight, I just- I'm sorry, Elizabeth."

"You don't have to be sorry," she assured him softly. "It's okay."

"I should have just cancelled or something, I didn't-" he sighed as he leaned forward over the sink, his head pounding as he rested it in his hands.

"No," she said. "Henry, no. I'm glad you didn't."

"What? Why?" he asked, glancing over at her. She smiled slightly as she leaned in and kissed his head lightly.

"Because if you had, there'd be no one here to take care of you," she admitted shyly. Despite feeling terrible, Henry felt a surge of joy rush through him at her words.

"You want to take care of me?" he asked, and she blushed slightly.

"Of course I do," she said quietly. "Now, stop talking and let me, okay?"

He nodded and she raked her eyes over him.

"You feel okay to move?" she asked. He nodded.

"Alright, come on," she said, reaching out to take his hand. He followed her as she led him to his own bedroom, where she stood before his dresser and pulled out the pair of pajama pants that were the softest she could find. She handed them to him and he smiled slightly at her before he changed, moving slowly to combat the nausea. She stepped into his tiny bathroom and ran cool water over a washcloth before ringing it out and folding it. When she returned, he was dressed and sitting on the edge of his bed.

"Here," she said, and he moved in accordance with her gesture, so that she could draw back the blankets, exposing the cool surface of his sheets. Henry settled gratefully against his pillow and she sat next to him on the edge of the mattress, pressing the cool cloth against his head.

"Better?" she asked. He nodded slightly, closing his eyes.

"I'm going to go and clean up in the kitchen, okay?" she said softly, and then she was gone. With her out of the room, Henry suddenly felt very empty. Earlier, he'd been so embarrassed for her to see him sick, but now that she was no longer at his side, he felt like crying. It was silly, but Henry hated being sick, and something about Elizabeth's presence made him feel better. He tried to convince himself to stop being a baby, but when he found himself on the verge of tears, he broke down.

"Elizabeth?" he called. She was in the doorway in an instant, watching him with concern.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Can you stay in here?" he asked. The way he sounded tugged at her heart, and Elizabeth wondered to herself when she had become such a softie.

"Of course," she replied. She stepped back to flick the lights off; the kitchen could wait. She settled down next to him and Henry just watched her. She smiled slightly.

"Come here, it's okay," she encouraged. Henry was normally quite confident; it was interesting, to see this new, hesitant side of him.

"I don't want to get you sick."

"Henry, babe, I just cleaned your vomit out of your sink, I think we're past that." Henry sighed at that, and Elizabeth immediately backtracked.

"No, it's okay," she assured him. "I honestly didn't think anything of it. Don't worry, okay?"

At her soft, but insistent tone, Henry relented and snuggled closer to her, his head on her shoulder.

"There," she breathed. Her heart was beating erratically and she had a faint desire to run, but the way he snuggled against her made something warm within her chest and she took a steadying breath as she ran her fingers through his hair.

"Just close your eyes, okay?" she said quietly. "I've got you."

And in that moment, even though he felt like death warmed over, Henry couldn't imagine wanting to be anywhere but right there in her arms.


	78. Don't Leave Me

**Prompt: Henry wakes up to find Elizabeth having a nightmare in which Henry leaves her. (Set somewhere in the Dmitri drama)**

Henry knew exactly what had woken him up as soon as his eyes were open. Nothing could wake him the way this could; Elizabeth. He and Elizabeth had been fighting. Things hadn't been this tense in their marriage in a long time, and Henry knew that a lot of it fell on him. Elizabeth didn't deserve to be blamed the way that he was blaming her, and as he looked over at her and found her turning restlessly in her sleep, he felt apng of regret. He hadn't meant to be so harsh with her; he'd just been so wound up, and taken it out on her. She'd played a part in the whole thing, sure, but was it really Elizabeth he was angry with? No, Henry knew that it wasn't. He was much more angry with himself, and now he was really wishing he'd taken a longer look at that before he'd put so much of the blame on his wife. He watched her for a moment as she got herself worked up in her sleep; it was a nightmare, clearly, and Henry had been t this place with Elizabeth before. Normally, he might have woken her and held her and lulled her back to sleep. Now, he hesitated. He'd been so hurtful to her; what if she didn't want his comfort? What if she didn't want him to see her like this right now?

"Henry," she mumbled in her sleep, and Henry sighed.

"Don't-" she began, turning and wrapping her fingers around the fabric of his pillowcase. "Don't leave me," she whimpered softly, and that was the final straw. Henry couldn't let her cry like that and not do something. Besides, the idea that she thought, even subconsciously, that he could ever leave her was more painful for him than anything else. He could never leave Elizabeth. Not in a million years- not in a million lifetimes. He shook her shoulder gently, running his hand through her hair.

"Elizabeth, baby, wake up," he said softly. "Wake up, sweetheart." He spoke gently, not wanting her to feel startled when she woke up. Her eyes opened and she watched him, confused in those first moments of awareness.

"Henry?" she mumbled.

"Yeah, I'm right here," he soothed. "Come here, babe."

She curled against his chest and he held her close.

"Don't," she breathed.

"I'm not going anywhere, Elizabeth," he assured her quietly. She pulled away from him suddenly, turning slightly and taking a shuddering breath.

"Sorry for waking you," she said softly, her voice already distant. He'd worried about this too; that she would wake up and realize what had happened, and then withdraw.

"Don't be," he told her. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," she replied. "Go back to sleep."

But her voice wavered and as she leaned forward, trying to steady her breathing.

"No," Henry answered firmly, and she glanced back at him. Henry didn't budge. He didn't want to give her any reason to think he would leave her alone- not right now, and not overall. Hearing her say those words, even in her nightmare, had been jarring. It was like an awakening of sorts, to see her like that, and Henry was done letting it happen.

"No?" she asked.

"I'm not leaving you alone, Elizabeth," he said quietly. She took a slow breath.

"Why now?" she asked.

Henry sighed.

"I realized what I've been doing to you- to us. You don't have to believe me, but I'm here. I'll be here if you need me."

She turned to watch him for a moment, and then leaned forward, resting her head at his hip. He looked down at her, and then hesitantly ran his fingers through her hair.

"Henry," she breathed.

"I'm here," he assured her. "You don't have to do it alone anymore, Elizabeth. I'm sorry, baby."

She nodded her head and took a deep breath.

"Are you sure?" she asked hesitantly. "Don't say that kind of thing to be unless you're sure, Henry."

"I'm sure," he said, and there was something so certain in his voice that Elizabeth couldn't help but believe him.

"Come here," she sighed, and Henry settled himself next to her; she wrapped herself in his arms and he held her close, exhaling a breath he hadn't known he was holding. He kissed the top of her head.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

"I guess," she answered. "Kind of shaken, but otherwise okay."

"I would never leave you," he said matter-of-factly, and she looked up at him.

"Never," she asked. He shook his head as he held her gaze.

"Never," he repeated.

"What's happening to us, Henry?" she asked in a whisper quiet voice. Henry sighed.

"Nothing, if I have anything to say about it."

Elizabeth found that somewhat strangely comforting.

"Go back to sleep, baby," Henry told her softly. "We'll talk tomorrow, okay?"

"Will we?" she asked, and Henry didn't miss the weight of that question.

"We will," he assured her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "We're going to be okay. I promise."

And Elizabeth drifted slowly off to sleep, cautiously optimistic and warm in Henry's arms. Henry, meanwhile, stared at her for hours, until the alarm blared and he reached out to turn it off, watching the small smile that appeared on Elizabeth's face as she woke up with her head on his chest.

Yeah, he decided as she kissed him lightly, they were going to be okay.


	79. Overheard

**Prompt: What if one or more of the McCord children overheard Elizabeth and Henry discussing him remarrying if she died?**

Henry had Elizabeth pinned to the bed, and was thoroughly prepared to enjoy their "last night together". He'd just reached for the top button of Elizabeth's shirt when there was a knock on their bedroom door. Elizabeth groaned softly and Henry rolled off of her.

"Come in," Elizabeth called as she flipped over onto her stomach to watch the door. When it opened, she was met by a very emotional Alison McCord.

"Ali, baby, what's wrong?" she asked, already moving off of the bed to reach her middle child. Henry was doing the same, and a moment later, Alison was sitting between them on their bed, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"What's going on, Noodle?" Henry asked.

"How can you guys talk so casually about that?" Alison sobbed. Henry and Elizabeth looked at each other past their daughter. Neither of them had realized she'd been within earshot. "Mom, are you going to die?" she asked, looking desperately at her mother.

"Oh, baby," Elizabeth said, reaching out to hug Alison, holding her close as Alison buried herself into her mom's embrace. Elizabeth smoothed her hand over Alison's dark hair.

"Everything is going to be okay," she said. "I can't lie to you and tell you I'm not going into a dangerous situation here, but I have security to keep me safe and protocols in place to make sure that everything goes smoothly."

"Then why were you and Dad talking about that?" she asked, looking almost frantically between her parents.

"We were just...joking around," Henry replied, trying to explain it in a way that didn't make it sound so bad.

"What? Why would you ever make jokes about Mom dying?" Alison asked; it seemed she was only becoming more and more upset.

"No, Ali," Elizabeth interjected. "It's not like that. It's just that your Dad and I, over the years, have developed a certain method of coping when things get tough and a lot of the time, that's a big part of it. It's harmless because we both understand what we're doing and it helps us feel better about whatever we're facing."

Alison took a deep breath and Henry wrapped an arm around her shoulders, tucking her into his side.

"Ali, the other thing is that those kinds of conversations are important to have. It's important for me to know that Mom would prefer me to remarry if something were to ever happen to her. We don't like to think about it either, so making that conversation kind of lighthearted is helpful for keeping us from getting too upset ourselves," he explained. Alison nodded, seeming to understand in spite of still being upset by what she'd overheard.

She sighed, ducking out from under her dad's arm to return herself to her mother's embrace, with Elizabeth willingly holding her daughter close.

"Mom, I don't want you to die and dad to have to marry someone else and for everything to all fall apart," Alison said, sounding very small.

"Oh, baby," Elizabeth sighed, smoothing her curls again. "It's okay. I promise you we're all going to do everything we can to make sure that never happens, okay?"

Alison nodded slowly.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that, Noodle," Henry said softly, wrapping his arm around them both as he pressed a kiss to his daughter's head.

"Hey, I've got an idea," Elizabeth said. "Why don't we do movie night? You know, Ali, like we did when you guys were little."

"Okay," Alison agreed. "I'll go tell Stevie and Jason."

She hurried out of the room and Elizabeth and Henry looked at one another in the sudden silence of the room.

"Well, there goes our so-called last night together," Henry sighed. His wife smiled, leaning in to brush her lips against the tender flesh of his neck.

"Don't count it out just yet," she whispered, and Henry felt himself shiver.

"Kids have to fall asleep sometime," Elizabeth reminded him in a low voice with a teasing smile as she traced her fingers down his arm until she was walking away and Henry had to take a second to collect himself before he smiled and stood, following Elizabeth out of the room.

Henry was up for a long movie night with the kids.


	80. The Opposition

**Prompt: Neal's flash drive contains something PTSD-related, which makes Elizabeth's opponents question her fitness for office.**

"You okay?"

Elizabeth turned to Henry at the soft question he posed to her. She nodded her head, glancing out at the podium she was about to stand behind. She'd delivered a lot of speeches- countless ones, actually. From her first speech, the one she'd delivered in college and the evidence of which now sat framed on Henry's desk at home, to her declaration of candidacy, Elizabeth was excellent at public speaking. This, however, was a little bit different.

Elizabeth had known that in her run for president, there would be things coming to light that might be uncomfortable. But as she'd told Neal when he had first mentioned the oppo file to her, she was confident in her decisions. The dragging up of her struggle with PTSD following her time in Iran in the first year of her tenure as secretary of State, however, had proven difficult for everyone to deal with. In true Elizabeth McCord fashion, though, she had chosen to take it head-on. She took a deep breath and looked up at Henry.

"Stay here, okay?" she asked softly, a tiny glimpse of her vulnerability as she met his eyes.

"I'll be right here," he assured her. "You've got this."

Elizabeth nodded. She squeezed Henry's hand and then let go, before turning and walking out to deliver her address regarding the PTSD issue.

"In 2015, I was hospitalized following a panic attack that was related to post traumatic stress," Elizabeth said, and Henry spun his wedding band on his finger as he watched her. She stood tall and proud, not one ounce of nervousness making its way through to her exterior. She had commanded the room from the moment she stepped up to the podium, and all eyes were on her now. The room barely seemed to breathe.

"It was scary for me, and it was scary for my family, and it is something that I still struggle with from time to time," she said. "The information that brought us all here about that event is true and accurate. I could have stayed home, or in my office, or hiding behind my press secretary," she continued. "But instead, I've decided to come out here and talk about it. Because that's what we should all be doing- talking about it."

Henry watched as she drew in a breath. Knowing her the way that he did, he could see that she was pushing herself, but he was quite sure that he was the only one.

"Mental health is not something to be ashamed of," Elizabeth said. "We all struggle with something- anxiety, depression, PTSD, attention disorders, dyslexia. When I was first dealing with this issue several years ago, I wanted to pretend that it was something I could handle on my own. I felt so out of control, and I desperately wanted to hide all of that, even from the people who cared about me. But I couldn't. I couldn't do it alone. Fortunately, I had and have an incredible support system, and through that I've learned valuable lessons. Possibly the most valuable of those is that this doesn't make me weak. It doesn't mean that I'm somehow less than I was or incapable of anything."

She glanced almost imperceptibly in Henry's direction and drew herself up somehow even more and Henry thought he might actually burst with the force of how incredibly proud he was of her.

"I came out to speak on this issue today because I thought it was important for it to come from me. Not from my speechwriter. Not from my press secretary. Not from anywhere but the voice of experience and overcoming. Overcoming- not in the sense that I've moved on, or that it's over with and forgotten, but overcoming in the sense that it's made me more conscious, having that be a part of my everyday life. It's given me a new perspective. I'm here to tell you that I'm stronger now than I was before I was affected by post-traumatic stress. And more importantly than that, I'm more aware. I'm able to stand here and tell you that it's time to stop letting mental health be a stigma. It's time to accept that it's a necessary part of our society and our world today."

She took a breath and scanned the crowd.

"I'm not going to speak about my ability to be your President," she said, "because I think that to say that would seem as if I'm justifying my mental illness. I won't do that anymore. What I will say, in closing, is that we have to be the ones to start talking about it- and I want that to begin right here."

Elizabeth thanked them all for coming, but Henry could barely hear her over the applause. She turned and walked off the stage toward him, coming to a stop in front of him. Henry wrapped his arms around her, drawing her in close to his chest. She melted into him, exhaling shakily against his shoulder.

"Elizabeth, I am so proud of you," he murmured against her hair. She nestled into him and he kissed the top of her head.

"Let's get you home, okay?" he said. "Blake arranged a back exit."

There had been a time when Elizabeth would have protested, when she would have insisted on staying for this or for that, but not anymore. Yet another thing she'd learned from this experience was that sometimes, you have to let someone else take care of you. It had been perhaps her hardest lesson, but as Henry took her hand and led her away from the crowd, she thought that now, it might have been among the best she'd ever learned.


	81. Stitches

**Prompt: The first time that Elizabeth tries to help Henry cook, she cuts herself chopping vegetables and it's bad enough that she needs stitches.**

Henry watched Elizabeth across the too-small kitchen, with her sweatshirt and tattered boyfriend jeans, sleeves up by her elbows as she bowed her head and focused on the task before her. Elizabeth was not a good cook- that much had been established early in their relationship, and it wasn't a problem. Henry was very adept in the kitchen, so much so that Elizabeth liked to joke while stealing bits of whatever he was cooking that it was the reason she stayed with him. Henry had just rolled his eyes at that, but couldn't help laughing at the sparkle in her eyes.

Now, for some untold reason, Elizabeth had set her mind to helping him cook dinner for the two f them. It was nothing complicated, really, but Henry had still been reluctant to assign her a task which included actually cooking the food. Instead he'd elected to give her chopping vegetables as a job. Chopping, she could do- or so she'd thought.

Henry was slightly amused by the way his girlfriend was intently focusing on the vegetables in her attempts to get them chopped perfectly. He kept glancing over his shoulder at her in the silence t watch- she'd told him to keep quiet so that she could concentrate. It was for this reason that Elizabeth's sudden cry of pain was so jarring to him. He turned quickly on the spot and at the sight of her cradling one hand in the other, dropped his own task and immediately went to her side.

"Babe,are you okay?" he asked, looking down at her hand. There was an larger volume of blood there than Henry had expected to see; his eyes widened and he cradled her hand in his own.

"Elizabeth, you're bleeding," he said.

"Yeah," she breathed. "I noticed."

He pulled her hand away from the cut and inspected it.

"Baby, this is deep," Henry said, his voice edged in worry and concern. Elizabeth shook her head.

"It's probably fine," she said uncertainly, but Henry shook his head as well.

"No, it's not," he insisted. "Elizabeth, this isn't the time to be tough, alright? You need stitches."

Elizabeth sighed, ready to argue. But when she looked up at Henry, she found the worry in his eyes and shut her mouth.

"Alright," she relented.

"Here," Henry said, reaching for a clean towel, pressing it against the heel of Elizabeth's hand, cradling her hand in his. "Got it?" he asked, and she nodded. Henry leaned over, remembering at the last moment to turn the stove off and then they were out the door.

In the emergency room an hour later, Henry watched Elizabeth anxiously and she rolled her eyes.

"What? I'm fine," she said. Henry sighed.

"I feel bad, I don't know," he admitted.

"You feel bad for letting me cut the vegetables?" Elizabeth asked.

"It sounds ridiculous when you put it like that," Henry muttered. Elizabeth huffed a laugh.

"It is ridiculous," she replied. "It's not your fault that I can't manage to do anything in the kitchen, even chopping vegetables."

"I guess," Henry said. "Does it hurt?"

Elizabeth smiled slightly.

"Could be worse," she answered. She offered her free hand to Henry and he took it.

"Just a few stitches," she told him.

"Yeah, I know," he replied. He watched her as she interacted with the doctor who had just entered the little emergency room cubby, a tray of tools spread out before him as he rested on a stool to stitch Elizabeth's hand.

"So what happened?" he asked. Elizabeth smiled at Henry.

"This one is a disaster in the kitchen," Henry replied, and they all laughed. Henry felt something ease in his chest at the sound of Elizabeth's laugh. It might have just been a few stitches, but he still found himself worried about her.

"Well, we'll get you fixed right up. No knives for a while though, yeah?" the doctor said, and Elizabeth nodded with a glance at Henry.

"I doubt he'll be letting me anyway," she remarked, and Henry nodded.

"You're absolutely right," he confirmed, eliciting another laugh.

"Hey, you know what this means?" Henry asked as he watched a little flash of pain appear on Elizabeth's features.

"Hmm?" she asked. He leaned in close to her and whispered, "takeout."

She smiled at him.

"Greasy chinese?" she asked hopefully.

"You can't talk about greasy Chinese in front of the doctor," Henry said. "You'll get us yelled at."

The doctor laughed and Elizabeth grinned.

"I'm going to have stitches in my hand, I think the doctor can agree I'm entitled this time," she argued. The doctor, under the looks of the young couple, shrugged his shoulders.

"We all need some greasy Chinese now and again," he said.

"Whatever you want, babe," Henry chuckled as the doctor finished up.

Shortly thereafter, the two of them left the hospital and Henry wrapped his arm around his girlfriend.

"No more chopping, okay?" he said, and she smiled up at him.

"Your loss," she quipped and Henry laughed.

"Come on," he said. "Let's get into that greasy Chinese."

Elizabeth grinned as she wrapped her arm around his waist.

"Maybe I should get stitches more often," she teased. Henry laughed.

"Don't even start," he begged, and then Elizabeth laughed too, and just like that, things were almost back to normal.


	82. The Aftermath

**Prompt: Elizabeth does decide to stay with her family during the potential nuclear attack, but her DS Agents pick her up and carry her to safety- they've warned her before not to test her on this. The crisis is averted, but by the time she makes it home, Elizabeth is still shaking and distraught.**

Henry sat in his home office, his hands still trembling slightly. He'd kept it together for the kids, but now that they were home and the kids were all sleeping in their beds upstairs and he was waiting on Elizabeth to get back, Henry could barely think straight. He leaned back in his chair, remembering his last moment with Elizabeth before she'd been pulled away from him, potentially forever.

" _I'm staying with my family," Elizabeth said, her fingers wrapped around Henry's tightly._

" _Ma'am, I'm sorry, but we cannot let you do that," Matt informed her._

" _You absolutely can and will," Elizabeth said._

" _No," Matt argued. "We will not. You have one minute to get in the car or we will use physical force to get you to safety as authorized by the President."_

" _You can't-" she began, and Henry squeezed her hand._

" _Baby, you have to go," he said._

" _No," she said, blue eyes looking imploring. "Henry, I'm not going."_

" _Babe, listen to me," he said. "I love you so much. I'm going to stay with the kids, alright? No matter what happens, I promise you I'm going to be with them."_

" _Henry," she began, her voice wavering._

" _I love you," he said forcefully as he leaned in and, his hand caressing her jaw with heartbreaking tenderness, he pressed his lips to hers._

" _I love you too," she managed against him._

" _I'm so sorry, Elizabeth," Henry whispered, and then he stepped back and nodded at the DS Agents. Tears were streaming down his cheeks by the time they got a now-sobbing Elizabeth into the car, and he took a shuddering breath as he got what he knew could potentially be his last glimpse of his best friend in the world._

He hadn't spoken to her since, but he'd gotten word that she was on her way home, finally. It was nearly three in the morning now, but Henry was not at all tired. All he could think about was getting a long look at Elizabeth and wrapping her safely in his arms. There was a click and Henry was out of his chair in seconds, meeting Elizabeth in the entryway. He barely got a glimpse of her before she was crumbling against him.

"It's okay," he murmured to her. "It's okay, you're okay."

"Are you okay? The kids?" she asked, not moving from where she was clinging to his chest.

"Yeah, we're okay. We're fine," he assured her. "They're all asleep. Everyone's safe."

"Oh god, Henry," she breathed, and he could feel her trembling against him. He held her tighter against him, not moving from the middle of the foyer.

"I've got you," he assured her. "It's okay, Elizabeth. It's okay."

She was shaking like a leaf, so much so that Henry was actually concerned for her physically.

"Babe, are you okay?" he asked, and his concern seemed to just set her off even more. "Okay," Henry breathed. "Come here."

He pulled her with him as he backed up to the staircase and sat down on the wide first landing. Elizabeth curled herself into his lap and sobbed with abandon against his shoulder. She didn't bother trying to stem her tears or silence herself, but rather just cried, all the emotion of the day's events finally coming to a head in that moment with him.

"Just take it easy, Elizabeth," he said. "It's going to be alright. You're home now, we're all here. Just take it easy."

"Henry," she sobbed.

"Baby, breathe," he coached. He was genuinely fearful at the way she was breathing; it reminded him of her panic attacks, but accompanied by uninhibited sobbing and trembling hands.

"Elizabeth," he said, looking down at her as she gasped for air. "Elizabeth, I need you to snap out of it," he said, a little more sternly than was probably necessary in his fear for her. "We are all here, we are safe. You have to breathe."

It worked; she stared at him with wide eyes and slowly took a few breaths.

"There you go," he said, much more gently. "In and out, baby." He ran his hand over her hair and came to rest his palm against her cheek as he held her gaze.

"Sweetheart, you're shaking," he said. "Are you okay?"

"I think so," she breathed.

"When's the last time you ate?" he asked.

"I don't know," she admitted.

"Alright, we're going to get you some food, okay?" he said. He started to stand and she reached for him, looking panicked.

"It's okay," he assured her. "You can come with me, alright? You've got to eat, babe."

She looked down, as if embarrassed by her reflexive action.

"Hey," Henry murmured, helping her up and using his finger to tilt her head up toward him. "You have every right to cling. Right now, you get to be clingy. And nobody, least of all me, gets to say a word about that. Be clingy, Elizabeth. It's okay."

She nodded and squeezed his hand.

"Come on," he said, tugging her toward the kitchen. "We're going to get you something to eat."

Elizabeth stayed close to Henry as he quickly worked to make something for his wife to eat. She smiled slightly as she watched him make macaroni and cheese, knowing how much she liked it and how infrequently she ate it.

He glanced over at her after some time spent in silence and found her eyes sparkling with tears.

"I thought I was never going to see you again," she confessed.

"I know," he replied. "Me, too." He leaned in and kissed her cheek.

"We're all okay," he reminded her. "End of the day, that's what matters, right?"

She nodded slightly.

"I think I might have to quit my job," she whispered. Henry hesitated and then just pulled her close to hug her. She held him tightly in response.

"Let's just eat and get some rest. You don't need to make a decision like that after the day you've had."

She nodded and he smiled as he slid a bowl of comfort food in her direction. She smiled slightly.

"Thank you for taking care of me, Henry," she said quietly as she glanced up at him.

"Thank you for coming home," he answered, and as they ate together at nearly four in the morning, they were both thanking God that their whole family had made it through the day.


	83. Shaking

**Prompts: Elizabeth's motorcade is in a fairly serious accident. Everyone's fine, but it makes Elizabeth think about her parents, and she's fairly shaken up** _and_ **Elizabeth swears she's fine, but she can't stop shaking.**

Henry jogged up the walkway and hurried through the front door of the home he shared with his wife and kids. It had been a whirlwind since he'd gotten the call saying Elizabeth's motorcade had been in an accident. It had been pretty intense, but luckily no one had been hurt. They'd all been taken to the hospital to be checked out, Elizabeth included, and Blake had called Henry as soon as he'd been cleared himself.

Now, Henry rushed into the house and took a sharp turn into the office, finding Elizabeth sitting at his desk, leaning forward with her elbows resting on the surface and her head in her hands.

"Babe, are you okay?" Henry asked, his words coming out in a rush as she looked up. She was on her feet in seconds, and he instinctively opened his arms to her. She threw herself into his embrace and he struggled not to stumble backward, admittedly surprised by the intensity of her affection.

"Henry," she breathed.

"You're not hurt, right?" he asked, attempting to pull back just enough to look at her. She nodded, but there was something about her expression that alerted him; something wasn't right. He looked down at her hands, and found that they were trembling.

"Elizabeth, baby, are you okay?" he asked gently, lifting her chin with one finger so that he could meet her eyes. She nodded her head.

"I'm okay," she said, but she sounded as if she were trying to convince herself more than anything. "Everyone was fine."

Henry shook his head.

"No, I know that part," he told her. "I know. Everyone's okay. But, uh, baby, you're shaking."

She stared at him, and he nodded down at her visibly trembling hands. She looked down and he reached out, gently taking her hands in his own. She watched it happening, but it wasn't until his hands were firmly holding hers that it hit her. She looked up, meeting his eyes, and he watched as tears started to well up and spill over onto her cheeks.

"Henry," she choked. She looked as if she were about to crumble.

"Oh, hey," he said soothingly. He reached out, pulling her in close to him, and she came willingly, curling herself against his chest. He buried his hand in her golden curls and used his other hand to rub her back soothingly. "It's okay," he murmured to her. "You're okay, baby. You're alright, okay?"

"I know," she said, but her voice wavered. "I know. Everyone's okay."

"Everyone's okay," Henry repeated soothingly. "Nobody's hurt. It's all okay, babe."

Elizabeth had wrapped her still-trembling fingers around the fabric of his shirt, and he pulled her just a little tighter. He could feel her whole body shaking ever so slightly.

"Thinking about your parents?" he asked softly, smoothing a hand over her hair. She shrugged and he sighed against her, holding her close. She took a shaky breath and Henry wished there were some way to make this better for her.

"Come on," he said softly, pulling her through the kitchen and to the more comfortable couch. "I'm just going to grab-" he began, but she shook her head, reaching out to catch his hand. He looked back, finding her staring at him with wide eyes. He understood immediately, returning to her side.

"Okay. It can wait," he said. "I'm right here with you." She nodded and sat down on the couch; Henry followed quickly and Elizabeth immediately nestled herself against him. Henry reached for the blanket that rested on the back of the couch and wrapped it around her shoulders so that she was encased in warm fleece and the comfort of his arms. She was so close to him that she was nearly in his lap, and he pressed a light kiss to her hairline, gently covering the hand that rested on his chest with his own. He was reminded forcefully in that moment that Elizabeth was more than the Secretary of State; she was his wife, first and foremost, and she was vulnerable and needing his comfort in a way that she didn't often.

"Sorry," she whispered.

"Hey," he said, tilting her head up to look at him again. "Elizabeth, you don't need to be sorry. It's okay to be upset. I've got you. You're okay."

She took a shuddering breath and buried her head against his shoulder; within seconds, he could feel her sobbing against him.

"Oh, honey," he hummed. "It's okay. I've got you. You're alright."

"I just-" she began, but he cut her off.

"Shh," he soothed, running his hand through her hair. "You don't need to explain, baby. It's okay."

She nodded silently, resting her head against him. Henry just held her, content to have her in his arms.

"I'm glad you're okay, sweetheart," he hummed. She nodded.

"I love you, Henry."

"I know. I love you, too."

They just sat there together, holding one another, until the children arrived and life in the McCord house resumed. Later that night, Henry would watch his wife as she slept and thank God that he had another day with her by her side.


	84. Out of Exhaustion

**Prompt: The morning after confronting Henry about having an affair, Elizabeth really regrets it- she would have figured it out herself if she hadn't been running on no sleep.**

Elizabeth rolled over and reached out instinctively. She opened her eyes and watched Henry as he slept peacefully, memories from the day before flooding her mind. A wave of regret crashed over her entire being and she sighed. She recalled the way she'd felt hearing about Henry's supposed affair, and wondered to herself what the hell she'd been thinking. Henry would never- could never. It would kill him. She knew that. She knew it. Why, then, had she been so unsure? It bothered her now, as she watched his chest rise and fall slowly in slumber. She had never doubted Henry like that before- so why now?

And then it occurred to her- she'd been running on so little sleep. Everything had been on edge. She sighed in frustration with herself. Henry had never deserved to be accused like that. She hadn't quite accused him, but even so it had been bad enough. She traced her fingers over Henry's cheek lightly, and drew his features into a smile in his sleep. Her heart leapt at the sight; Henry still had such power over her. He could turn her into mush at the slightest touch or look. And not only that, but he was golden-hearted and honest. She cursed herself again at the memory of their exchange in the office and found herself overwhelmed with a desire to set things straight with him. They'd moved on the evening before, even ending the day wrapped up together. But still, Elizabeth now found herself wracked with guilt over the whole thing.

"Henry," she hissed, shaking him lightly. He blinked and groaned slightly in protest, but turned his head toward her and reached for her in his half-asleep state.

"You okay?" he hummed.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, and Henry opened his eyes to look at her in concern.

"For what?" he asked.

"I asked you if you cheated on me," she breathed.

"Elizabeth-" Henry began softly, but she shook her head.

"No, I- I should have known. I did know. I just-"

"Babe, it's okay," Henry insisted, but Elizabeth shook her head again.

"It's not," she argued earnestly. "It's really not, Henry. I never should have even considered it. And I wouldn't have- but I was running on almost no sleep and everything was already so stressful and my head just went there. I'm so sorry, Henry."

"Honey, it's alright," Henry stressed. "Come here."

He reached out and ran his fingers through her hair. She shook her head, and Henry was alarmed to find tears in her eyes.

"Hey," he soothed. "Elizabeth, baby, come here."

She couldn't refuse him again, and shifted closer to him so that he could take her into his arms. He held her close and ran his hand through her hair again, and then down her back. She snuggled close to him and Henry had to close his eyes against a wave of emotion. Even though they'd been married for twenty-five years, and had been through so much together, he still struggled with this. He hated seeing her upset, and the idea that she was upset over this- that was even harder for him to stomach.

"It's okay," he said softly, wanting to soothe her and stem her tears.

"Can you please just be mad?" she asked.

"What?" he asked in confusion.

Elizabeth looked up at him earnestly.

"If you're mad, then I can feel less guilty," she said, and Henry chuckled lightly with a shake of his head, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Babe, I'm not going to be mad at you," he told her gently.

"Why not?" she mumbled against his shoulder.

"Because," he replied, "you said yourself that you had a good reason for acting out of character. You were exhausted and not thinking straight, Elizabeth. Besides that, you had every reason to think that based on what you knew. It's okay. It's over with now, alright?"

Elizabeth sighed, but ultimately she nodded slightly.

"I know you'd never do that," she said quietly.

"I know," Henry assured her. "It's alright."

"You're a saint," she groaned. She peered up at him through her lashes.

"It's kind of annoying," she added, and Henry laughed.

"Come on," he said with a quick, sweet kiss for her. "I'll make you breakfast."

Elizabeth smiled as she took his hand and let him tug her from the warmth of the bed; after all, how could she say no to that?


	85. Who's To Blame

**Prompt: Elizabeth gets injured in the Montreal bombing, but only because she insisted on going outside looking for Jason and another bomb went off. Henry is livid with him, and Jason feels enormous guilt.**

Henry's heart was pounding as he walked through the hospital. It had been since he'd gotten the call from Jason, who sounded panicked and scared.

" _Dad?"_

" _Jason, what's wrong?" Henry had asked._

" _It's Mom," Jason said, his voice breaking. Henry's heart sank. "There was a bomb. There was a bomb and she thought I was outside but I wasn't and she went looking for me and- then there was another one and they weren't with her and then they found ehr and now she's-" he broke off and Henry felt a rush of panic. Now she's_ what _?_

" _Jason," he said as evenly as he could manage. "Jason, listen to me. I need you to tell me if she's okay."_

" _She's- they said she's going to need surgery and she'll be okay but they wouldn't let me see her."_

" _But she's going to be okay?" Henry asked for clarification._

" _They said she would be," Jason replied in panic. "But I haven't seen her, Dad, I don't know."_

" _Okay, alright," Henry sighed. "Calm down, bud. Just take a breath, okay?" He looked around for his passport as he spoke, rummaging frantically through drawers._

" _I'm going to get there as soon as I can, Jace, just hang tight for now, okay?"_

" _Okay."_

Now, Henry strode along the hallway until he reached his destination. Elizabeth's security detail was standing guard outside a room, Jason across from them. Jason immediately turned and hugged him.

"Are you okay?" Henry asked, looking his son up and down. Aside from tear tracks on his cheeks and a generally disheveled appearance, he looked fine.

"I wasn't there," Jason replied. "At the bomb, where the bomb went off. I wasn't there."

"What do you mean?" Henry asked. He wanted desperately to see Elizabeth, but just then Jason seemed so upset that he thought it best to tend to him first.

"I was inside with Piper, and Mom thought I was outside because it was all just a trick. Piper and I wanted to- we were never going to be outside, but Mom thought I was outside so she went after me and that's how she got hurt." He looked up at Henry. "I never meant for her to get hurt, Dad, I swear."

"Wait," Henry said, slowly catching on to what Jason was saying. "Why did Mom think you were outside if you were somewhere else?"

"Because I lied to her!" Jason exclaimed. "Piper and I wanted our first time to be special, and we were in her hotel room and then the bomb went off and I was supposed to be outside so Mom went looking for me, but I wasn't there and by the time I got downstairs, the second bomb had gone off and-"

Henry stared at him.

"You're telling me that she got hurt looking for you, in a place that you never were, because you were upstairs having sex with your girlfriend?" henry asked. Jason hesitated.

"Well, we never actually-"

"Jason!"

"I'm so sorry, Dad, I never wanted her to get hurt," Jason repeated. Henry stared hard at him.

"She got hurt looking for you."

"I know," Jason whispered. Henry was shaking, now with anger.

"Stay," he said furiously, pointing to the wall before he turned and faced the door, which one of the security guards opened for him.

Elizabeth was asleep, looking remarkably peaceful despite the scrapes on her face and the bandages on her shoulder in addition to those on her left wrist, which was presumably what she'd needed surgery for. She looked alright otherwise, but the sight of her there sent Henry into a tailspin. He was so incredibly angry with Jason that he thought he could have screamed himself hoarse. How his son could have been so irresponsible was beyond Henry's comprehension. And to pile that on, there was Elizabeth- hospitalized, injured, she could have died. He sighed, lowering himself to the chair next to her bed and watching her carefully. He reached out and took her hand, not expecting her to stir. However, she did, turning her head toward him and opening her eyes to look at him.

"Hey," she said with a small smile. Henry couldn't even respond; he just leaned forward and rested his elbows on the mattress, trying desperately not to cry.

"Hey," Elizabeth repeated, but her tone was different now. She sounded concerned, which only made Henry's tears fall more quickly. "Henry, breathe," she said softly. "It's okay. I'm okay."

"God, Elizabeth," he choked.

"I'm okay," she soothed. Henry, though he wanted to stay close to her, felt he might combust if he continued to sit still. He reluctantly pulled away from her and began to pace the room, running a hand through his hair anxiously. Elizabeth tracked him with her eyes.

"Henry, it's okay," she said, but he shook his head.

"You got hurt because Jason wasn't where he was supposed to be," Henry managed. "I can't even think about what could have happened, and he was so incredibly irresponsible, I just-"

"Henry," Elizabeth intoned patiently. He looked over at her.

"I'm okay," she said. "Everything is fine. Come and sit."

He hesitated, and then sat down; Elizabeth ran her hand through his hair and then brought it to rest on his cheek.

"Just breathe, Henry," she said. "Jason was irresponsible, but we're all okay, and I'm going to be fine. And when we get home, we can ground Jason from here to eternity, alright? Right now, he's upset too. And from the sobbing I got when he was in her earlier, I think he feels the weight of his actions, so let's just take a breath, alright?"

Henry nodded slightly; with her speaking to him rationally and running the pad of her thumb over his cheekbone, he found that it was much easier to breathe and to think clearly. She was right; Jason was suitably upset, and there would come a time for them to impress upon their youngest the consequences of his choices- just not now.

He took a deep breath, and then leaned in to kiss her cheek.

"I'm so glad you're okay," he breathed. Elizabeth let her eyes fall closed as she rested her forehead against his.

"Me, too," she whispered, pulling back slightly to meet his eyes.

"Can you go and get Jason?" she asked. "I want to see him."

Henry smiled slightly at her and nodded. He stood to leave and Elizabeth caught his hand in hers. He looked back inquisitvely and she grinned at him.

"Don't kill him, okay?" she said, and Henry laughed.

"Not today," he promised, and was still reveling in the sound of her laughter when he opened the door and beckoned to Jason.


	86. Scholarship

**Prompt: Henry is petrified that he's going to lose his scholarship to UVA.**

Henry was panicking.

The professor of his mathematics class had just given them their mid-term reports, and Henry was not doing well. If he failed this class, he would lose his scholarship, and losing his scholarship was like losing everything. He would lose his chance to do something bigger with his life. He would lose his chance to prove himself to his father, whatever that looked like. He would lose his opportunity to be at school and learning and chasing something bigger than himself. He would lose Elizabeth.

That, he thought, might have been the scariest part of it all. He'd fallen hard and fast for Elizabeth Adams, and she didn't know it, but he was pretty convinced that he was going to marry her someday.

But if he was forced to go home and work instead of being able to continue his studies at UVA, he wouldn't be around, and what if Elizabeth didn't want to date long-distance? The thought made him feel even more sick to his stomach than he did already.

Without realizing it, he'd made his way to Elizabeth's dorm. He'd been so engrossed in his thoughts that he'd allowed his feet to carry him along the familiar path, and now he drew in a breath and headed inside. He wasn't even sure what to say to her, but there was something magnetic about her presence, and he figured if their fairy tale was ending soon, he might as well see her as much as he could in the meantime.

Elizabeth pulled open the door of her dorm room in response to Henry's knock, recognizing immediately that something was wrong.

"Henry?" she asked as she stepped aside to allow him into the otherwise-empty dorm room. "Are you okay?" she asked.

Henry shook his head.

"Elizabeth, I'm going to fail," he began. "And if I fail, I'll lose my scholarship. I'll have to go home, and I'll have to let my dad see that I couldn't do it after all, and I'll have to work instead and never leave my hometown. And it's ridiculous anyway, because I've always been a straight-A student, and I have no idea what's going on with me that I'm actually failing a class. I thought I was doing okay in it until I got this report. I'm going to fail and lose my scholarship, and I'll never see you again and-"

Elizabeth had been watching him silently as he unraveled, but at his spoken fear of never seeing her again, she took a step toward him and placed her hands on his shoulders.

"Woah, Henry, slow down," she implored softly. He fell silent, watching her, and she offered him a soft smile.

"What do you mean, you're never going to see me again?" she asked.

"I'm going to fail," he repeated. "And then I'll have to go home to Pittsburgh and I won't be here. It'll all just...fall apart."

"Henry, listen," she said. "I'm not going to...I don't know, break up with you, if you end up having to go back to Pittsburgh. If that happens, you're not losing me. Okay?"

Henry stared at her.

"Oh."

Elizabeth had surprised even herself with such fervent reassurances. It wasn't that she was unsure about her relationship with Henry; in fact, she could see herself spending the rest of her life with him; she just hadn't told him as much. But when he'd shown up at her door like that, distressed and worrying that he was going to lose her, some instinct had taken over and just like that, she'd surprised them both with her bold declarations.

She took a deep breath, steadying herself, reminding herself that it was okay to be honest with Henry. It was still an idea that was taking some getting used to.

"You want to tell me what's going on?" she asked him softly, and Henry sighed.

"I'm failing," he replied with a helpless sort of shrug as he handed over the midterm report that he was still holding in his hand. Elizabeth's blue eyes scanned the paper efficiently, taking it all in and calculating in her head as she did so.

"Okay," she said when she had finished, looking back at him with something that he thought looked a lot like determination shining in her eyes. "We can fix this," she declared, and he raised his eyebrows at her.

"We can?" he asked uncertainly.

"Yeah. Henry, come on. I'm a math major. If you do well on that test next week and on every extra credit assignment for the rest of the semester, and you get at least a decent grade on all of the classwork assignments, you might even be able to manage an A. You certainly aren't going to fail. Not with my help, anyway."

He stared at her in sheer wonder for a moment, and then leaned in, lightly pressing his lips against hers.

"You're amazing," he said, and she laughed, turning her head to hide the way she bit her lip in response.

"Come on, let's get started," she said, but as he smiled at her, somewhere in her chest was a warm, familiar feeling that she was pretty sure was what home felt like.


	87. The Definition of Bliss

**Prompt: When Henry and Elizabeth saw the ocean or mountains for the first time, it was together.**

"You've never been to the beach?"

Henry turned to face Elizabeth in surprise as he asked her, glancing over at her from the bookshelf in his little apartment. Well, their little apartment now. Elizabeth had agreed to move in with him, and he'd been more than thrilled. They may have been moving a little bit fast, but neither of them cared too much. Henry had just been stacking Elizabeth's books on the shelf next to his and now they looked at one another across the small space.

"No," she replied with a shake of her head that sent her blonde ponytail swinging slightly.

"Me neither," Henry replied, and Elizabeth looked at him.

"Oh."

And that was how it had begun; for some reason neither Henry nor Elizabeth could quite identify, the idea that neither of them had seen the ocean bothered them both. It had been three weeks since the realization they'd had on the day Elizabeth moved in, when they were sitting together on the couch and Elizabeth turned to Henry.

"We should go," she said suddenly. He stared at her, confused.

"Go where?" he asked.

"To the beach."

Henry thought about that.

"We could," he remarked, and she nodded.

"We can see the ocean together for the first time," she said, and her blue eyes sparkled at the idea. Henry smiled; he couldn't have said no to that even if he'd wanted to.

Now, the two of them had arrived in a little beachside town. The salty air whipped at Elizabeth's hair, blowing it in her face and she laughed as she brushed it back. Henry smiled, watching her. This trip, he decided, had been a really good idea. She looked so relaxed and at home in her shorts and tank top with sunglasses on her head.

"Come on," she said, sounding excited. She took his hand and pulled him along with her as she glanced over her shoulder at the sand dunes near the hotel that she knew were hiding the ocean from view.

"Already?" Henry laughed, and Elizabeth smiled.

"Well, that's why we're here, isn't it?" she asked rhetorically. Henry had to give her that, and he nodded in acquiescence, thoroughly tangling his fingers with his as they fell into step beside one another. It was a perfect summer day, the whole place drenched in sunshine and not a cloud in the sky while a pleasant salty breeze ran across the sand, not strong enough to be annoying but just enough to cool it down and cut the heat.

As Henry and Elizabeth crested the dunes, the horizon stretched out endlessly before them, Atlantic ocean waves crashing against the shore in endless rotation. Elizabeth and Henry slowed to a stop on the sand and stood there, side by side. Elizabeth stared out at the place where the sparkling water seemed to meet the endless sky, the line blurred and distant. Henry, meanwhile, was overrun with gratitude. He glanced over at Elizabeth, and his heart was fit to burst with his immense love for her.

"What a view," Henry remarked, and when Elizabeth glanced over at him to find his eyes on her rather than the ocean. She grinned and shook her head.

"Shut up," she laughed. He laughed, too, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, tucking her against his side where she immediately wrapped her arm around his waist in return and rested her head against him.

"It's amazing," she breathed.

"It is," Henry agreed. "And so are you."

Suddenly, what had been funny was tender and the two of them looked at one another. In that moment, Elizabeth realized that it didn't matter- ocean, mountains, city- as long as they could be like this, side by side and looking at one another. As long as she and Henry were together, she didn't care.

Henry leaned forward, kissed her lightly, and smiled as she buried her fingers in his hair.

This, he decided, was the definition of bliss.


	88. Major

**Prompt: Jason, their least likely child, follows in one of his parents' footsteps when it comes time to choose a profession.**

Elizabeth and Henry were on edge. They tried to convince themselves and each other that it was normal; their youngest was about to tell them what he'd decided to do with his life, after all. However, neither of them were very convinced. They hadn't been this nervous with Stevie or with Alison; then again, neither of them were the rebellious, self-proclaimed anarchist with an overabundance of hotheaded passion that their brother was.

"We have a right to be nervous, right?" Elizabeth said quietly, looking over at her husband as they waited for Jason to descend the stairs. He'd been determinedly tight-lipped about the whole affair all week, and the buildup was starting to get to them. Henry nodded.

"We totally do," he confirmed, and Elizabeth exhaled forcefully as she sat back, feeling justified by Henry's response. Jason's footsteps could be heard on the steps, and the two of them looked at one another. Henry grinned and offered her his hand, which she took gratefully.

"Here we go," he said.

"Almost twenty years of parenting comes down to this moment," she said, and Henry chuckled a little bit, but had no time to reply because Jason had come to stand before them.

"Alright, Jace," Elizabeth said. "What's the verdict?" Jason leaned against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he smiled at his parents.

"You're not going to believe this," he said.

"Wait, wait," Elizabeth said. "You are going to college, right?" there was a note of desperation in her voice, and Jason laughed.

"Yes, Mom, I'm going to college," he assured her, and she nodded.

"Okay, go on," she said, and Henry laughed lightly, pulling his hand away from her to wrap his arm around her shoulders. She settled comfortably against him and they both watched their son with eager anticipation.

"Alright," Jason said. "I've settled on a major, and it's not exactly what you probably expected from me, or even...what I expected from myself." He drew in a breath, and looked between the two of them.

"Political Science," he said, and the kitchen was suddenly so intensely silent that you could have heard a pin drop. Elizabeth and Henry stared at their youngest in shock.

"I- what?" Elizabeth asked, the first to break the silence. Jason nodded.

"Political Science," he repeated.

"I- Jason, why?" Henry asked. "You've spent the better part of your life telling us how screwed up the political system is and berating your mother and I for-for giving in to it."

Jason nodded his head.

"Yeah," he agreed. "But screwed up systems need people to make them better, right? And I've watched both of you guys all but save the world more times than I can count in the last few years, which is pretty badass."

"He has a point," Elizabeth said, but fell silent at Henry's look.

"The thing is," Jason continued, "I've seen both of you, but especially Mom, actually make a difference from a position in the government, which was something that I thought was literally impossible." He shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not sure where it'll take me yet," he said, "and maybe my major will change as I figure it out, but the one thing I am sure of is that I want to make a difference in the system that I've always seen as so flawed. Like you have."

Elizabeth stood, pulling away from her husband to pull her son into her arms, holding him close to her. He laughed.

"Mom," he complained, but she just hugged him. She pulled back, and stood next to her husband, both of them surveying their son.

"Jason, I am so stunned and so, so proud of you," Elizabeth said, trying desperately not to get choked up. She'd had her moments with Jason, moments in which she was certain she and Henry had just done something wrong with their passionate little rebel. Moments in which she had actually worried for him, worried that because of her and her husband, he wouldn't make it in the world. But now, standing at the almost grown-up in her kitchen, she was filled with more than pride; she was also filled with certainty, because it had just hit her that Jason McCord was no more of a failure or a pushover than any of the rest of them.

"I am too, Jace," Henry added. "We're both..shocked, but definitely impressed." Jason grinned at them.

"Thanks, guys," he replied. "Hey, who knows," he added as he headed for the stairs with a bright smile back at them.

"Maybe I'll be President."


	89. Touch

**Prompt: Elizabeth is afraid to touch Henry after his accident.**

To anyone but someone who knew her the way Henry did, it would have seemed like Elizabeth was acting perfectly normal. She went through the motions, spoke to him normally, and did everything that was expected of her. However, there was something missing, and Henry was ready to call her on it.

In the twenty-four hours since his "accident", Elizabeth hadn't touched him even once.

It was not only out of the ordinary for his normally very affectionate wife, but in his opinion, it was cause for concern. Elizabeth wouldn't do something like that for no reason, and he knew it was something they had to address.

"Hey, babe, can we talk?" Henry asked her as she absentmindedly opened the door of the refrigerator. It swung shut on its hinges and Elizabeth nodded in his direction. She slowly walked over to join him on the couch in the den, smiling slightly at him as she settled herself on the opposite end of the couch from where he was sitting.

"What's up?" she asked.

"Look, I know this whole incident scared you," he began. "That much was obvious from your reaction."

"Henry-" she began, but he shook his head at her.

"No, Elizabeth, hold on. I'm not trying to start anything, so you don't need to defend yourself, alright? You had every right to be scared. I would have been, too."

She nodded slowly.

"Okay, then what are we talking about?" she asked.

"Well, even though I get the part about being scared, there's one thing I don't get," he said.

"Which is?" she asked.

"Why aren't you touching me, Elizabeth?" he asked boldly. She stared at him, her expression nearly impossible to read.

"What?" she asked.

"Don't," he said gently. "Let's not waste time with you denying it, okay? I'm not mad or anything, I'm just concerned," he told her. "Baby, it's not like you. I just want to know what's going on."

Elizabeth silently looked down at her hands, twirling her wedding band in circles on her finger. Henry didn't speak, giving her the space to gather her thoughts.

"I just…" she began. It was clear that this was hard for her, so Henry didn't push. "I guess it goes back to being scared," she admitted.

"What do you mean?" Henry asked.

"I'm scared, Henry," she said quietly, finally looking up to meet his gaze.

"Scared of what?" he asked. Elizabeth looked away briefly, swallowing hard.

"Losing you," she admitted. Their eyes were locked on one another, and Henry would have sworn he could feel his heart breaking at the way she was looking at him.

"Ellizabeth," he began softly.

"Don't tell me it isn't going to happen," she pleaded. "I know that's what you're going to say, Henry, but…you and I both know that if you keep this up, it easily could happen."

Tears were escaping now, streaming down her cheeks.

"Hey," Henry said softly. "Elizabeth, look at me."

She did, looking up to meet his eyes again.

"I'm not making promises," he began, "but you know I'm always going to do everything in my power to come home to you, Elizabeth. Just like I always have. That much, I can promise you."

She nodded.

"I know," she said. "I'm just...Henry, I don't know what I would be without you," she said, her voice breaking as she swiped impatiently at her tears.

"Baby, don't go there," he said. "You can't torture yourself like that, okay?"

She nodded slightly, but remained curled up on her side of the couch.

"Can I ask you a hypothetical question?" Henry asked.

"Yeah."

"Do you think, if I died right now, you'd wish you hadn't kept your distance since the accident?"

His words sunk in on her; she suddenly recalled with vivid clarity the first thing that had entered her mind upon learning of her parents' death all those years before; how she'd immediately wished she'd gone with them, or at least said goodbye to them, hugged them or kissed them, anything other than the distant response she'd given them. Now, a choked sob forced its way through her defenses, and everything about Henry softened in response.

"Hey," he soothed. "Baby, come here."

Her defenses broken down, Elizabeth moved so that he could hold her, taking in what felt like her first breath in two days at the feeling of his arms around her.

"I'm sorry, Henry," she said.

"Shh," he murmured, cradling her close. In truth, having her in his arms calmed him, too; the lack of touch had made him feel unstable and lost, like he was wandering about with nothing to anchor him to his life.

"It's okay, babe," he said softly. "It's okay. I've got you."

Elizabeth curled up next to him, letting him run his fingers through her hair, and couldn't help but wonder what she'd done to deserve to spend her life with Henry by her side.


	90. Crash

**Prompts: Elizabeth's body can't handle any more caffeine and she crashes** _and_ **Elizabeth faints, but Henry catches her before she can hit the ground**

Henry stood, watching his wife from across the kitchen. Elizabeth had been acting odd ever since she'd gotten home. At first, he'd just noticed that she seemed distracted. He had chalked it up to something having happened at work; she'd been there late, and had left even earlier than usual that morning, so it made sense. He decided he'd talk to her later, once the kids were in bed.

However, as the evening had passed in relative normalcy- as much as existed in the McCord household- Elizabeth was acting increasingly strange. When he watched her for a little while, he noticed that she was visibly shaking and seemed restless.

"Babe, you okay?" he asked.

"Hmm? Yeah," Elizabeth replied. Henry nodded slowly as she turned to walk away, but he wasn't convinced. He reached out, catching her by her elbow and she stumbled backwards.

"What?" she asked.

"You're sure you're okay?" he asked. She nodded a little too quickly.

"Yes," she replied. He looked down at her hands; they were still trembling.

"You're shaking," he said, but she just shrugged and went over to the sink. He fell silent, but stayed nearby, watching her closely.

Her behavior only seemed to get more and more odd; she didn't seem to be able to stand still for longer than a few seconds. He'd been distracted signing a school form for Jason, taking his eyes off of Elizabeth for the first time all evening. He had just sent Jason upstairs when he heard Elizabeth say his name, sounding weak and shaky. He whirled around, alarm bells sounding out in his head.

She was leaning against the counter, her face pale. He knew exactly what was coming, and he was around the island before her eyes had closed. She fell, the dishrag she was holding splashing water onto the floor, but Henry reached out and caught her, holding her against him to keep her now-limp body from hitting the floor.

He lowered himself to the floor, his mind racing as he held her. It was only a few seconds before her lashes fluttered, and he directed all of his attention to her.

"Elizabeth?" he said softly. "Can you hear me?"

"Henry," she mumbled.

"Yeah, I'm right here. I've got you," he told her softly. "You're okay."

She was scrambling to try and sit up, but he held her down gently, pulling her close against his chest.

"Just hold on, babe," he said. "Stay still for a minute, okay?" She stilled against him and he ran a hand through her hair.

"Take it easy," he said softly. "Just breathe, okay?"

She nodded, and Henry looked up just as Jason came down the stairs.

"Mom?" he asked, his voice rising in panic when he saw his parents on the floor.

"It's okay, Jace," Henry said. "Can you get your mom some water?" Jason nodded, and as he proceeded to get a glass of water for Elizabeth, he frequently glanced over at his mom, resting on the floor in Henry's arms. He brought it over, crouching down to look at Elizabeth.

"Go upstairs, bud, we'll come and talk to you soon, okay?" Henry said, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on his son's arm as he took the glass of water. Jason hesitated, looking at his mom. Elizabeth managed a small smile and nodded at her son.

"It's okay," she said. Finally, Jason stood and walked away, but not without a look back at his parents as he reached the foot of the stairs. Elizabeth had regained a little of her color, and she took the glass of water from her husband, taking a sip.

"How you feeling?" Henry asked softly. She nodded.

"I'm okay," she answered.

"Baby, how much coffee did you drink today?" Henry asked. It was as if a lightbulb had gone off in her head, and henry didn't even need to hear her answer. Elizabeth had overdosed herself on caffeine once before in their relationship, before she was pregnant with Stevie. It had gone exactly like this; her body had just crashed.

"Yeah, I thought so," Henry said. He shook his head as he smoothed a hand over her hair again, almost compulsively. Even though he knew she was fine, it was still scary to watch her go out like that.

"Elizabeth, you know you can't handle that much caffeine," he said. She nodded.

"I know," she said. "Maybe I should loop Blake in on my limit so he'll stop me."

Henry chuckled, but he couldn't help but think it might not be a bad idea.

"Thanks for catching me," Elizabeth said, turning her head back to look at him. He smiled slightly.

"What are husbands for?" he asked rhetorically, bringing a smile to her face.

"Ideally for things that are much more fun than caffeine overdose," Elizabeth answered as she looked down at her shaking hands.

"No kidding," Henry remarked, running his fingertips over her cheek. She looked up at him and met his gaze.

"You okay?" he asked, and Elizabeth nodded.

"Yeah," she replied. "But I think I'm going to be laying off the caffeine for a while."

"I think that's a good idea," Henry replied, and with that he held out his hand to help her up, intent on caring for her until the caffeine wore off. And just like that, their lives slowly slipped back toward normalcy.


	91. Workout

**Prompt: From yoga to the elliptical, Elizabeth has been working out more than normal lately, and Henry wonders why.**

He'd noticed it over the last few months; Elizabeth had always kept herself healthy by living an active lifestyle, but working out had never quite been her thing. He even recalled her distaste for the so-called yoga moms and the like; it had actually been one of the things he loved about Elizabeth.

So, when he'd come downstairs to find her attempting to keep her balance in a yoga pose while watching the news, he'd been a little confused, but let it slide. However, over the course of the past few weeks, he'd noticed her working out more often, and his curiosity was starting to get the better of him. Henry had never been one to just keep quiet when he had something to wonder about.

It was when he came home one evening to find her there already, attempting to keep her balance in yet another yoga pose, when he finally broke.

"Hey babe," Elizabeth said casually as he leaned in to kiss her.

"Hey," he answered, moving away from greeting her to look around for something to eat. "Can I ask you a question?"

She glanced over at him, looking a little surprised, and nodded.

"Yeah, sure," she replied.

"Why are you working out all of a sudden?" he inquired, and he could almost feel the energy in the room shift at his words as Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders.

"Just felt like it, I guess," she replied, clearly trying to shut it down. That only served to make Henry more determined to get to the bottom of the issue. She started to turn away from him and go upstairs, but he leaned forward and reached out, catching her by the elbow and tugging her backwards so that she spun to face him again. He looked down at her with concern in his hazelnut eyes.

"Elizabeth, what's going on?" he asked. She sighed, avoiding his gaze, and he lifted her chin with a gentle finger to meet her eyes. She couldn't maintain her cool exterior when he was looking at her like that, and he knew it.

"Okay, fine," she said. "I've been working out so that I can still be attractive because I'm insecure. Happy?"

She pulled her arm away from him and turned, heading upstairs. He stared after her in shock for a moment before following her up the steps and into the bedroom. When he reached her, she was sitting on the edge of their bed, and he could see her taking shuddering breaths, attempting not to cry.

He sat down next to her and she sighed.

"Baby, come here," he said softly, and when she leaned ever-so-slightly toward him, he wrapped his arm around her.

"Go ahead and lecture me," she said, and Henry shook his head.

"I'm not going to lecture you," he told her quietly. He ran his hand up and down her back, and then looked over at her. She looked up at him and he smiled, cradling her cheek in his palm. She met his eyes and he could see pain in the familiar blue gaze; in that moment, there was nothing he wanted more than to take it all away from her.

"Then what are you going to do?" she asked. He leaned in and kissed her forehead before meeting her eyes again.

"I'm going to tell you that you're the most beautiful woman on the planet," he said softly. "And that you always have been, through three amazing kids and going on three incredible decades." A tear had slipped past her defenses and was making its way down her cheek; Henry swiped it away with a gentle touch. "Elizabeth, I don't know where you got the idea that you're not attractive," he began, "but I, for one, can hardly take my eyes off you. If you want to work out, go for it. Go all in, just like you always have, with everything you do. But…" he trailed off, running a hand through her honey-blonde locks of hair. "Go into it with the knowledge that you are perfect, just the way you are. Okay?"

Elizabeth was crying silently by the time he finished, tears streaming down her cheeks, and Henry pulled her close, hoping he'd said the right thing.

"I hate yoga," she muttered against him, and he couldn't help but laugh.

"I know," he said. "Baby, even if you want to work out, don't torture yourself."

She looked up at him, gratitude in her gaze.

"Thank you," she murmured, and he smiled at her.

"Want some of the ice cream I brought home?" he asked. She groaned and he laughed.

"No," she said, but it was entirely unconvincing. He grinned at her, pushing her down to the mattress by her shoulders. She couldn't help but smile as he pressed his lips against hers. She fell right into the trap he'd set, reaching up to lean into the kiss just as he pulled back.

"Race you," he said, and then he was gone, leaving Elizabeth to scramble after him as his laughter echoed down the hallway.


	92. Reality Sets In

**Prompt: Instead of yelling at the kids when they obsess over their own problems as she's trying to iron out the nuclear situation, Elizabeth just bursts into tears.**

Elizabeth thought that if she heard the word "poncho" one more time, she might dissolve into hysterics. She was so on edge that she could almost physically feel her nerves buzzing within her body, and every word out of the mouths of her blissfully ignorant children sent her a little closer to a breakdown. She clenched her fingers into a fist as they spoke, willing herself to remain calm and not snap at them. She could feel Henry watching her and that just made her more on edge. In the end, it had been Stevie's talk of Russell Jackson and the unanswered text messages that sent her over the edge, rather than Alison's constant worrying over her project.

She had turned to her daughter, a biting remark on the edge of her tongue, but when she looked at Stevie, the words died in her throat and suddenly her emotions seemed to have been flipped by a switch. Anger dissolved into oppressive sadness and panic, and Elizabeth found that she no longer had control of her own emotions. She burst into tears and the three children all stared at her in panic and she turned helplessly to Henry, who immediately reached out and and wrapped her in his arms.

"Okay," he breathed, rubbing her back with his hand soothingly. "Okay, Elizabeth. Just breathe. Hey, baby, we're all her and we're all safe. It's okay."

"Dad?" Jason asked uncertainly.

"Is she okay?" Alison asked, overlapped by her sister, who was asking a variation on the same question.

"She's alright, guys," Henry said soothingly.

"Mom, I didn't-" Stevie began, looking at her mom helplessly. Elizabeth shook her head frantically against Henry, who just held her close as he looked over her head at Stevie.

"It's okay, Stevie, it's not you," he assured her. "She's just really on edge right now."

He ran his hand through Elizabeth's hair as she continued to cry against his chest.

"Why?" Jason asked suspiciously. "Is this about what happened at the arcade?"

The kids were all looking at Henry expectantly, and he sighed.

"Yes," he admitted. "But I can't tell you anything more about it."

"But-" Alison argued, and Stevie shook her head.

"Ali, drop it," she said, a little bit sharply. "If he says he can't, he can't."

Henry shot her an appreciative look as Stevie's eyes lingered on Elizabeth for a moment before she ushered her siblings out of the room.

'Thank you,' Henry mouthed at her and she spared him a tight smile as she ascended the stairs after Jason and Alison. Henry couldn't help but take a moment to marvel at the way their eldest had grown up- even though moments ago she'd been complaining about an unanswered text, the gravity of this had set in on her and she'd taken charge. He was reminded forcefully of Elizabeth, and turned his attention back to her then.

"It's okay," he murmured. "Just let it out, babe, it's okay. I've got you."

Elizabeth sobbed against him, all the emotion of the whole event and the aftermath washing over her in those moments. She wrapped her fingers around the fabric of his shirt and he held her tight. Henry blinked back tears himself and swallowed hard; he understood completely how she was feeling just then. He'd stood where she was standing that Saturday afternoon, watching their children and holding one another with the full belief that it would be the last time. And then it hadn't been. And everything was supposed to somehow go back to normal, as if nothing had ever happened, as if their mortality had not just been dropped on them so intensely. It was nearly impossible to normalize, and while Henry had been expecting Elizabeth's first outburst to be anger, he wasn't particularly surprised by this either.

"Henry," she breathed, almost so quiet that he didn't hear her, and he tugged her impossibly closer to him.

"I know," he assured her, and she took comfort in the knowledge that he really did. He understood her, he knew where she was coming from. In that moment, as she attempted to steady her breathing, she appreciated that more than she had the words to express. Reality had set in, but Henry was still there, heart beating against the inside of his chest and warm, familiar arms around her. That was all she really needed- her touchstone, her person. Their family, the empire that they'd built. Normalizing would come, Elizabeth told herself. Not yet, but eventually. Maybe it would be a new normal, but it would come. And until then, she was right where she belonged.


	93. Similarities

**Prompt: While Elizabeth is secretary of state, a Marine dies on the same kind of mission Henry was on, and it hits Elizabeth hard.**

Elizabeth couldn't look at that picture anymore. She just couldn't take it. It was too much. That young man, that Marine, had died when his plane had- no. She couldn't even repeat it in her mind. She closed the folder and the young man's face was hidden from view. It was committed to her memory, though- she couldn't unsee it any more than she could unsee Henry's face.

 _Henry._

That was why this was all hurting so much. It was about more than a twenty-six-year-old Marine who'd been wrenched from his family far too soon. It was about that, but it was also about _her_ Marine, who had once been that twenty-six-year-old with a wife at home, and he'd been in just that same kind of danger. The missions had been almost identical. Reading the details of how this man had died had made Elizabeth's stomach churn because it was all just so familiar. So achingly, horribly familiar. Just one wrong turn, one late move, one false start, and that would have been Henry. Her life could be so different now. There would be no beautiful family, no incredible children, no thirtieth wedding anniversary on the horizon. It would look nothing like what she was going home to. She almost physically shuddered at the thought, not for the first time that day.

And then she stood from her desk. She needed to see Henry.

"Blake?" she called, and her assistant dutifully appeared moments later.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"I'm going home," she said, and he looked at her with some bizarre mix of surprise and understanding, nodding silently.

"Thanks, Blake," Elizabeth said.

"Of course."

And five minutes later, Elizabeth was on her way to her husband.

When she walked into the Georgetown house, she closed the door quietly behind her. Henry was not at his desk, so she slipped out of her shoes and jacket, discarding them in the hallway carelessly, and then headed through the living room. She found him in the den, dozing with his glasses still on his face and a book open on his chest. It was a familiar sight, one she had come home to more times than she could possibly count. Yet, now, it lent a tightness to her chest that it normally did not and Elizabeth just stood there for a moment, watching him and taking it in.

Henry, who was perceptive even half asleep, opened his eyes to look at her.

"Hi, babe," he mumbled, his voice gravelly with sleep. "You're home early, everything okay?"

It was that quiet, calm, normal question that broke her. She didn't cry- not really- but she all but threw herself into Henry's arms. Henry immediately wrapped her close to his chest, holding her tightly as if it was some force of habit, reflex, or both.

"Hey," he soothed. "Elizabeth?"

"You could have died," she said.

"What?" Henry asked after a half-beat of silence in which he tried and failed to decode that.

"Not recently," she sighed. "Marines."

"I- yeah, I guess," Henry agreed. "But we knew that, and it was a long time ago so I'm not really following."

Elizabeth peered up at him.

"There was a Marine that died," she said quietly. "His name was Adam, and he was twenty six. And his mission was-" she shook her head. "It was just like yours. Almost to the letter. He had a wife at home, Carly. She's twenty-four. Stevie's age. The age I was when-"

"Oh, Elizabeth," Henry sighed. He understood now, and his heart broke for his wife, and for Adam's wife, and everything that could have been, but wasn't. And for everything that was, but might not have been. It was far from the first time Henry had felt the things he was feeling now, but it had been a while since it all came rushing back to him like this, and seeing Elizabeth upset only reinforced it.

"Henry," she breathed softly, her lips brushing against his neck so slightly that he could barely feel it.

"Yeah?"

"I'm so glad you made it home," she whispered. "And I feel awful even saying that, but-"

Henry shook his head and kissed her crown lightly.

"No," he said. "You're right to feel that way. It's okay, to be grateful. I am," he added. Elizabeth didn't reply, but instead buried her head in the crook of his neck and held him a little bit more tightly.

"I love you, Elizabeth," Henry said as he held her close, cradling her against his chest and letting her halting breath stumble across the skin of his shoulder.

"I love you too," she breathed, and there in that moment, she let herself grieve for Adam and Carly, and for the woman she'd been when Henry was deployed and for every wife who'd ever come close- like she had. For every husband who hadn't made it home- and for all the ones who had. And somewhere in the grief and the pain, there was immense, shining, overwhelming gratitude for the Marine that had come home to her all those years ago- and continued to, day after day.


	94. Offering of Love

**Prompt: One of the McCord kids has a friend who loses a parent. When Elizabeth gets home that night, said child clings to her and can't let go.**

Stevie was fourteen years old when she went to school and immediately knew that something was wrong. It was one of those things that just hit her; it was immediately obvious by the atmosphere of the room as a whole. Everyone seemed subdued, and the energy of Stevie's classmates was infectious in all the wrong ways. She'd not been at school fifteen minutes when the reason for the somber atmosphere was brought to her attention; her classmate, Laura, who sat two rows back from Stevie and sometimes borrowed hair ties from her, was out of school because her mother had died.

For most of the day, Stevie said very little; she'd not been touched by death before. Her mother's parents had died when she was around Stevie's age, but her father's parents were healthy and she saw them every Christmas. Many of her classmates were far more familiar with death than Stevie was, and every time she thought about Laura her stomach churned. She couldn't help but think of her own mother, too. Things had not been easy between them lately. Stevie had to admit that she had complained about her mom more than a few times to her friends lately- she'd heard Laura doing the same thing, and now the thought of it all made her sick. She could barely focus on anything for the remainder of the day, and by the time she got home she was exhausted, and all she wanted to do was hug her mom. Elizabeth, unfortunately, was not yet home from work and Stevie knew that her dad would pick up on her mood instantly- which, of course, he did.

"Stevie, are you okay?" Henry asked as she walked by him. She sighed.

"I'm fine, Dad," she said. Henry watched her pass by him and headed for the kitchen. He could tell that something was off about her, but she'd been so touchy lately and he didn't want to push her. He reluctantly turned back to what he was doing, hoping that maybe later when Elizabeth got home, she'd have better luck with their eldest.

At five-twenty that evening, Stevie was waiting in her mother's bedroom. She knew that her mom always came straight to the bedroom after work to drop off her belongings, and Stevie didn't want to miss a moment with her. Elizabeth, after being forewarned about Stevie's mood, made her way upstairs, surprised to find her eldest child sitting cross-legged on the center of her parents' bed.

"Hey, baby," she said, and Stevie immediately launched herself off of the bed and into Elizabeth's arms.

"Whoa, okay," Elizabeth soothed, setting her bag down to wrap her arms around Stevie, who was sobbing with utter abandon into her mother's shoulder. "Stevie, sweetheart, breathe."

"Laura's mom died," Stevie sobbed- it seemed that her mother's touch had released the floodgates and she could no longer stem her tears.

"Who?" Elizabeth asked.

"Laura, she's in my homeroom," Stevie cried. "It doesn't matter."

"Okay," Elizabeth said softly. "It's alright, baby."

"It's not, because I'm awful to you," Stevie argued. Elizabeth ran her hand over Stevie's light hair.

"Baby, come here," she said gently. She tugged her daughter to sit next to her on the bed and tenderly wiped the tears from Stevie's cheeks. It was an action Elizabeth had performed countless times, not only for Stevie but for her little brother and sister as well, but for some reason in that moment it was especially poignant to Elizabeth.

"Laura was complaining about her mom last week," stevie explained tearfully. "And now she's dead. I complained about you to my friends, too, I told them all these things about how you were annoying me and I didn't really mean them but what if- what if you die, too, and it's because I was saying awful things-"

"Oh, hey," Elizabeth interrupted. "No, honey, look at me." Ocean blue met its identical shade across the space between them and Elizabeth brushed a strand of Stevie's hair off of her face.

"You don't need to think that way," Elizabeth told her sincerely. "You are growing right now, and at your age, there are so many things to work through. Your dad and I understand that, and we're doing our best to be patient and helpful for you. But what you never, ever, need to wonder is whether your dad and I know that you love us both, just like you know that we love you. That's what this family is built on, sweetheart."

Stevie swiped furiously at the tears that had risen to her eyes to replace the ones Elizabeth had wiped away before and nodded her head.

"Hey," Elizabeth said softly, resting her hand on the side of her daughter's head as she met her gaze. "I'm not going anywhere, okay?"

Stevie nodded and leaned into her mom again; Elizabeth held her close and tight. Knowing that her daughter was having a brush with death made her chest feel tight. Elizabeth herself had seen it with a much closer view at Stevie's age, and she had hoped to shelter her own children from it as much as she could. Now, holding her crying daughter, Elizabeth just wished that she could have given Stevie something- anything- to make this easier to stomach. It occurred to her then, however, that there wasn't really anything she could give- at least not anything more than what she was already giving her. Love, unconditional and honest, was all Elizabeth had to offer, and as she ran her fingers soothingly through Stevie's hair, she had to hope that it would be enough.

"I love you so much, Mom," Stevie mumbled against her, and Elizabeth held her just a little bit more tightly, grateful above all else that she was there to do so.

"I love you, too, Stevie," she breathed. The two of them fell into silence, and just then it didn't matter that Stevie had been a brat or that Elizabeth fell short sometimes. And Elizabeth knew in that moment that her offering of love was more than enough.


	95. June 2002

**A/N: a little father's day fluff! Their first father's day once the McCord family is complete.**

The sun was shining brightly through the windows of the McCord home. Sunday. No work, nowhere to be, nothing to do...except for one thing. Because not only was it Sunday, but it was a specific Sunday, one in late June that meant celebrating a specific member of their family, one member that Elizabeth was incredibly grateful for. She rolled gently out of bed and offered a tender glance at her still-sleeping husband. Then, she pulled herself out of the bedroom and headed down the hall to wake her children.

"Girls," she called softly into the bedroom that seven-year-old Stevie and three-year-old Alison shared. They both began to stir and little faces blinked at her sleepily. Elizabeth smiled at them.

"It's Father's Day," she reminded them and they both brightened up at that. "I'm going to get Jace, you guys can go and wake Daddy."

Stevie and Alison scrambled out of their beds and Elizabeth could hear the receding sound of their little feet on the hallway floor as she went to get their youngest. By the time Elizabeth returned to their bedroom with the nearly-one-year-old Jason in her arms, both of her little girls were on top of her husband and the room was filled with the sound of giggling that brought an immediate smile to Elizabeth's face.

"I see some of us are having fun," she remarked.

"Hi, babe," came Henry's muffled voice and Elizabeth laughed.

"Hi," she answered.

"Hi!" Jason parroted and they both laughed. Henry slowly extracted himself from the girls and grinned at Elizabeth, his hair a mess on top of his head and his hazel eyes bright.

"Good morning," Elizabeth said softly as she leaned in to kiss him. He mumbled a returned greeting against her lips and then took the baby from her, smiling brightly at little Jason.

"Hi, buddy!" Henry cooed at the baby, who responded by clumsily putting his hands on Henry's cheeks.

"Daddy, we have presents for you!" Stevie exclaimed. She ran to her parents' closet, where she and Elizabeth had stored said gifts earlier in the week, and with Alison's help, brought them over to her dad. Elizabeth watched as Henry, with little Jason still settled in his arms, unwrapped the gifts and exclaimed over the handmade items as if they were the most treasured gold on earth. Which to Henry, she knew, they might as well have been. She loved that. Loved how he treasured the littlest moments with their children. This father's day felt especially special to Elizabeth; having their little family complete, with the addition of Jason, made it seem so much more poignant now.

"Thank you guys so much," Henry said, wrapping the girls in a hug. Elizabeth wished that she had a camera, so that she could capture the image in her head forever, that of Henry with all three of their little ones in his arms. Her whole world in one frame, wrapped together in joyful bliss.

"Happy Father's Day, Daddy!" Stevie said as she pressed a kiss to his cheek. Henry smiled at her.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he replied. He glanced over at Elizabeth, hazel eyes sparkling.

"So where's the breakfast?" he teased. Elizabeth rolled her eyes, but laughed as she reached out to take the baby.

"Sorry, babe," she told him, "you know I'm good for a lot of things, and that is not one of them."

"Breakfast?" Alison said, sounding hopeful enough to make them both laugh.

"Talk to Daddy," Elizabeth said, and Alison grinned at him.

"You can wear the new apron I made you!" she said.

"And make waffles!" Stevie added. Henry laughed.

"Absolutely, I can," he agreed enthusiastically. "Come on, McCords, let's go!"

As they all cheered and headed for the door, Elizabeth reached out and pulled Henry back with the hand that wasn't balancing Jason on her hip. He looked at her inquisitively.

"Happy Father's Day, baby," she murmured, and leaned in to kiss him.

"Thank you," he murmured. "I love you."

"Love you more," she replied. Then she grinned. "Now let's go eat those waffles."


	96. The Wedding Question

**Prompt: Stevie attends a wedding for the first time, and she cries when her parents tell her she can't marry Henry.**

"The baby is going to cry through the whole thing, you know that right?"

Elizabeth sighed in response to her husband's question as she reached up to adjust Henry's tie.

"Not if we time her nap really well," she answered, and Henry shot her a look as if to say yeah, that's likely.

He wasn't wrong.

Baby Alison McCord, at nearly six months old, was not a fan of naptime. She wasn't a fan of crowds either, and yet the McCords were braving them anyway on that cool autumn afternoon.

"It's Juliet's wedding," Elizabeth said over her shoulder as she clipped her earrings at the back. "We can't miss it. Besides, Stevie's never been so excited in her life."

That was very true; all their older daughter had talked about for days was the wedding. She couldn't wait. Henry nodded at that; he had to admit, he would never consider taking this away from Stevie, or not being there for Juliet for that matter. He might complain all day long, but at the end of the day, they both knew it would never leave that room.

Much to Henry and Elizabeth's pleasant shock, little Alison slept through the wedding ceremony. Elizabeth thought she might never have been more relieved in her entire life. The little family of four found their way into the reception hall and had just gotten seated when Alison started to cry. Elizabeth lifted her out of her carseat and even managed to get her to quiet down before the cake cutting began. Elizabeth was just congratulating herself on how well this was all going when she glanced over at Stevie and found her staring dreamily at Juliet in her wedding dress. Elizabeth chuckled lightly.

"So what do you think, Stevie?" she asked.

"I love weddings," Stevie proclaimed, and both of her parents laughed.

"Do you?" Henry asked. Stevie nodded her head energetically and turned her attention to Henry.

"Daddy, I want to marry you," she said, and Elizabeth could practically see Henry melt at her words. He laughed lightly and reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear.

"That's sweet, baby, but you can't," he explained. Stevie frowned.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because I'm already married to Mama," he explained to her. "And people can't marry their moms or dads or brothers or sisters. You have to marry someone who's not your family."

Stevie watched him for a moment, and then looked over at Juliet and then back to Henry, who was alarmed to find her lip quivering as tears filled her eyes.

"I don't want to marry someone else!" she cried, and Henry immediately scooped her up into his lap.

"Oh, sweetheart, it's okay," he cooed as he cradled her close and rocked her back and forth, her little body curled against his chest as she cried. "It's okay," he repeated.

"But- but I only love you, Daddy," Stevie said. "I don't love any other boys."

"It's alright, baby," Henry assured her. He tilted her head back to meet her eyes and tenderly dried her tears.

"Someday, you are going to meet another boy and you're going to love him, too. And then you'll get married and Mama and I will be there, okay?"

"You will?" Stevie asked.

"Of course we will," Henry answered. "And we'll be so, so proud of you and happy for you and we'll make sure that the boy you're marrying loves you just as much as I love Mama."

Stevie seemed to think about that for a moment, and then looked back up at Henry.

"Will we have cake?" she asked very seriously. Henry smiled at her and kissed her forehead.

"Any kind of cake you want, baby girl," he promised, and Stevie nodded her head.

"I guess that's okay then," she said decisively, and then she wrapped her arms around Henry's neck and hugged him tightly.

"I love you, Daddy," she said, and as Henry met his wife's eyes over Stevie's shoulder, he was pretty sure he was the luckiest man in the world.

"I love you more, sweet girl," he said softly, and just like that, the baby was crying and Stevie had run off to dance and the moment was broken- but as Henry took Alison from Elizabeth, he couldn't help but think how lucky he was to have all of those moments ahead of him- and plenty of intervening years before he would have to deal with Stevie's wedding day.


	97. Exiled

**Prompt: Blake cries on his last day working for Elizabeth, thinking he's being exiled from her orbit forever.**

Blake Moran felt really, really stupid. He was standing over his small desk in the main hallway on the seventh floor of the State Department and he felt really stupid. His chest was tight with emotion and he was pretty sure that if he tried to speak, he would fall into tears in an instant. And that made him feel really stupid.

It was his last day working there, as Elizabeth McCord's assistant, and Blake wanted nothing more than to pretend that it wasn't happening. Yet, it was oppressively present in his mind and he couldn't _not_ think about it. It had been on his mind from the moment he'd walked in earlier in the day.

This is the last time you'll take the elevator.

This is the last time you'll get coffee here.

This is the last time you'll do the once over to make sure the office looks the way it's supposed to.

This is the last time you'll do the elevator ambush.

The last time you'll debrief her on the day's events.

The last time she'll thank you for the pastry?

The last time…

The last time…

The last…

"Blake?"

He looked up at the sound of Elizabeth McCord's voice and swallowed hard at the soft look on her face as he stood to follow her call into her office. He tried not to look around too much, knowing that it would take almost nothing to set him off. Elizabeth gestured to the couch off to the left and Blake silently sat down next to her, trying desperately not to focus on the way she looked at him, as if she could read his mind.

"Are you okay?" she asked, and Blake couldn't help but laugh a little bit at that.

"Truthfully?" he asked. She nodded unnecessarily and he shook his head.

"Not really," he admitted, and Elizabeth smiled, understanding shining in her gaze on him.

"You know this is for the best, right?" she asked, and he nodded his head reluctantly.

Elizabeth studied him for a moment, and took a deep breath.

"Blake, you've done a fantastic job with me these last few years," she said, and he took a sharp intake of breath. "You've been reliable and helpful and I could never have done what I've done without you. You were my guy from day one, and you have been ever since. No matter what was happening, I've always known you were behind the scenes making things happen, and you've been invaluable." Blake swallowed hard and met her gaze, which he instantly regretted.

"I want to thank you for working with me," Elizabeth continued. "You have done a service to your country, to this office, to every person you've worked with and most definitely to me and to my family. We might not have made it through this huge life transition without you, and I mean that. I'm incredibly grateful."

Blake gave up, blinking and letting tears roll down his cheeks. Elizabeth smiled softly at him.

"Why are you crying?" she asked, though her own eyes were suspiciously glassy.

"Because I-" Blake began, and then broke off. He took a breath and started again.

"You made me feel something I never felt in any job before this one," he said. "Not just one thing, either. You made me feel not only valuable and necessary, but accepted and a sense of belonging. You made me feel like a part of something bigger than myself, and not just sometimes. I've come into work every day knowing that it's okay to be who I am, and that I can do that and also make a difference. It's been-" he took a moment to steady himself. "It's been such a gift," he added, his voice breaking. "And I'm going to miss seeing you."

"Blake," Elizabeth chuckled lightly, and not unkindly. She wrapped her arms around him and this time, Blake did not stiffen or hesitate to hug her back.

"Listen," she said a moment later when they pulled away and she met his gaze. "I know you're not required to do what I ask anymore but I hope you'll come by for dinner this weekend. And every other weekend I can wrangle you into it."

Blake stared at her.

"Really?" he asked cautiously, and she smiled brightly at him as she brushed a tear of her own away.

"Come on, Blake, you really think I'm going to let you out of my orbit that easily?" she joked, and Blake smiled back at her, feeling as if a weight had been lifted off his chest. Knowing that he was still going to be around her somehow made him feel much lighter. He'd not realized how much his soon to be former boss had come to mean to him, along with her family. He nodded his head as they both stood and embraced again.

"I'll be there," he said, and she nodded.

"You better be," she said with a smile. "I'll text you a time, okay? I mean it."

Blake laughed.

"I had no doubt, ma'am," he replied, and she shook her head.

"Elizabeth," she corrected, and Blake hesitated, nodding his head.

"Elizabeth," he repeated, and she smiled.

Blake turned, and with a small glance back at her over his shoulder, he walked out of her office for the last time, feeling suddenly more optimistic about the future he was walking toward. He guessed Elizabeth McCord just had that effect on people- in fact, he was sure that she did.


	98. 23 of a Nest

**Prompt: He was fine when they dropped Stevie off at college for the first time, but in bed that night, Elizabeth held Henry as he cried.**

Stephanie McCord had her father's heart from the moment she was born. She was a wonder, with little wisps of blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He thought she looked just like her mother, and her mother was his favorite person in the entire world.

She had been, at least, until Stevie showed up; the baby had made it an unbreakable tie.

It didn't seem possible to Henry that it had been eighteen years since that day, and that he had just dropped that tiny baby off at college. Stevie, he had to admit, was a far cry from the infant he'd cradled in his arms during her earliest hours of life. She was a shining, vivacious, beautiful young woman, and as he'd hugged her goodbye, he couldn't help but wonder where the hell all that time had gone.

Now, Henry listened to the sounds of his home; Elizabeth was working on something, and he could hear the faint sound of her keyboard clacking. In the kitchen, Alison and Jason were doing cleanup after dinner. Everything seemed remarkably, painfully, normal.

It wasn't normal, though, and that was what Henry thought about as he slowly climbed the stairs and wandered down the hallway into Stevie's room.

He had told himself he would be fine. He was prepared for Stevie to go off to college; in fact, he'd been preparing himself for her flight from the nest for the past eighteen years. Yet, as he stood in the middle of his baby girl's empty bedroom, he had never felt more unprepared.

He wasn't sure how long he stood there, silently and without touching anything, before he turned and left, pulling the door closed behind him with a soft latch. He let his fingers linger on the doorknob for a moment, and then he headed for the master bedroom that he shared with Elizabeth. He was surprised to find her there already, sitting on her side of the bed.

She looked up and smiled softly at him as he entered.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey," he answered. "What time is it?"

Elizabeth chuckled.

"Almost ten," she replied. "You were hiding out in Stevie's bedroom for almost two hours."

Her tone had been light, but her words seemed to unhinge something in her husband, and she watched his eyes fill with tears as he stood on his side of the bed. Her expression morphed from neutral and amused to concerned within seconds.

"Oh, babe, I'm sorry," she said. "Come here."

Henry obliged, moving to lie on the bed next to her. Elizabeth lowered herself to lie down next to him, gently kissing his forehead. He moved ever-so-slightly closer to her, and she felt it in her heart; he needed her in a way he hadn't for a long time. She readjusted, and he settled his head against her shoulder, drawing comfort from Elizabeth's familiar presence.

"I miss her," he admitted.

"Oh, Henry," she sighed, running her fingers through his short, greying hair. "I know. I miss her, too."

"Yeah, but I'm her favorite," he muttered miserably, and Elizabeth breathed a laugh even as she held him a little tighter.

"You make a good point," she conceded. "Baby, she'll be home to visit before you know it."

"No, it's just-" he sighed, frustrated with his own tears. "She's all grown up." He felt so alone, even with Elizabeth so close. The idea of Stevie's empty bed was driving him crazy.

"I know," Elizabeth said softly. "I know this probably doesn't really help," she began, "but she misses us, too."

"Not likely," Henry said.

"No, I got a text from her while you were in her room. She said to tell you she loves you and misses you."

There was a moment of silence.

"It helps a little," Henry admitted. "But it also makes me want to drive over there and bring her home and tuck her in under the covers."

"Me too," Elizabeth laughed. She pressed her lips to Henry's forehead. "She'll be okay, and so will we. I promise."

Henry nestled his head against his wife, breathing in the familiar scent of shampoo that lingered on her blonde tresses.

"How the hell are we going to do this two more times?" he asked, and Elizabeth laughed.

"Oh, somehow I think Jason might not be too difficult," she joked.

Henry groaned.

"That'll be even worse," he lamented. "Jason will leave us with an empty nest."

"Let's just focus on the two-thirds of a nest we still have, yeah?" Elizabeth said lightly.

"How about we sleep and not have to focus on any portion of the nest?" Henry suggested. Elizabeth smiled down at him, tracing her thumb over his cheek to swipe at the remainder of the tears there.

"I love you," she said. He looked up at her with a slight smile, his eyes earnest.

"I like you okay, too."


	99. Scarred

**Prompt: Elizabeth doesn't want Henry to see her new scar.**

Elizabeth had been avoiding him ever since the bandage had come off, and Henry was pretty sure he knew why. Knowing that she was trying to hide her scar from him didn't make the concept any easier to stomach. He didn't really understand it; they'd been open with one another in every way for so long, that seeing her shut him out like this was hard to cope with. He wanted to push, to ask, to make her see that he was right there, just like he'd always been. However, he knew Elizabeth better than anyone, and he knew that if he brought it up, she would just clam up. He would wait; bringing it to her attention would be an absolute last resort. For the time being, he'd give her some time and see what happened.

Elizabeth had shut their bathroom door every night since the bandage had come off and revealed what was now what she considered her ugliest scar. It wasn't her only one; she had a faded jagged line on her shoulder that she'd gotten from a horseback riding accident in college, a thin surgical scar from the emergency C-section she'd had when Jason was born, and a little patch of raised skin on the outside of her wrist from a fall she'd taken onto a gravel path while she and Henry had been hiking on their one weekend alone together between Stevie's birth and Alison's. Scars were nothing new to him, either; she recalled the long nights spent exploring his body and getting to know it all over again following each of his deployments. She'd ask him about each new scar, and he would patiently tell her their stories before they curled up together, both of them sleeping soundly for the first time in months. Since she'd seen her scar from the incident in Iran, she had closed their bathroom door with a pang of guilt. On this particular night, however, she simply forgot. She supposed it could be chalked up to exhaustion; it had been a long day at work, and she wasn't thinking. Her mind was on other things, and she didn't notice that she'd forgotten until her shirt was on the floor and her pants were lying in a heap and she was standing in the closet wearing just her bra and panties. It was then that a small movement in her peripheral vision caught her eye, sending a rush of panic through her body as she turned her head to meet Henry's warm eyes.

"Henry," she breathed, eyes darting from side to side in panic.

"Hey, hey," he said, pushing off the doorframe to reach out and stop her from grabbing the shirt she had reached for. His hand was gentle on her wrist, his familiar touch calming her just a little bit in spite of herself.

"Baby, stop," he said softly. "Just hold on a second."

"Henry, I-"

"I know," he assured her, meeting her eyes. "I know you don't want me to see. But, Elizabeth, this isn't us."

She hung her head in response, and he gently lifted her chin so that he could see her eyes again.

"What's different this time?" he asked, and she took a breath.

"It's just...I hate it," she admitted. "Every time I look at it, I remember how you begged me not to go and I just- I keep thinking about how close we came to losing everything. To top all of that off, it's easily the worst one I have and I don't know, Henry, we're getting older and I don't have a lot of attributes to throw around like I did when we were twenty or thirty. I just- look, it's stupid, okay?"

"Elizabeth," he said softly, imploringly. Something in his tone brought her gaze back up to his and he smiled slightly at her.

"Come here," he said, taking her hand and leading her into the bathroom. It was well-lit and warm, but Elizabeth felt herself shying away from the mirror before they had even come to stand before it.

"Henry, can we please not do this tonight?" she asked, but Henry was shaking his head before she even finished speaking.

"Sweetheart, just listen," he said. He used his hands on her shoulders to hold her in place in front of the mirror. He turned her so that the scar was reflected in the glass and she looked away.

"Elizabeth, you are stunning," he murmured. He traced the scar with a feather-light tough and she shivered ever so slightly at the contact.

"Henry-" she tried again, and he laughed lightly.

"Elizabeth, can you shut up for a second?" he asked good-naturedly. She sighed, but closed her mouth and waited for him to continue.

"You're stunning," he repeated. "Every inch. Every mark. Every scar."

He spoke with such reverence and sincerity that Elizabeth could feel tears welling up in her eyes at his words. Henry had always known exactly what to say, even when she was certain that there was nothing he could say. He always managed to get through to her, somehow. Suddenly, she was overcome with an onslaught of guilt. It seemed so ridiculous now that she heard the way he spoke about her, to her. She should have known that he would respond like this, and on some level she had known, but she'd let some petty fears get the best of her and she'd pushed away the one person who was always on her side. She bit her lip, trying desperately to hold back the tears, but it seemed that now they'd started, they weren't going to stop.

"Hey," Henry breathed, reaching out to pull her gently against his chest. She came willingly, abandoning her pretense, and buried her head against his shoulder. Things had been rough between them; since taking the job as Secretary of State, she was on edge more often, and had less time to spend with her family. The incident in Iran felt like the last straw; Elizabeth had reached the end of her rope, and she knew that it was time for something to change.

Henry knew it, too. He stood there in the bathroom, holding her close, knowing that things were bad but not really sure what to do about it. Something did have to change, though. He knew that he couldn't stand seeing her like this for much longer. He held her just a little bit tighter, pressing a kiss to her head.

"It's okay," he said softly. "You're okay, sweetheart. I'm right here."

She continued to cry, and he continued to hold her, wishing he could do something but knowing that this was one of those times when they just needed to weather her temporary storm together. There would be a time for them to sit down and decide what to do, but not yet. For right now, she needed him to be strong for her, and Henry was willing to do it.

"It's okay," he whispered. "Everything's going to be okay."

And it would; if he was sure of anything, it was that they would be okay. They always were; scars and all.


	100. The Biography

**A/N: Guys! It's the last chapter of Volume II! I can't believe this is number 200 of these little one shots (It's also one of my favorites!) Volume III will begin with the next one shot, so be aware that if you have email notifications on for this collection you'll have to subscribe again. Thanks for coming on this journey with me!**

 **Prompt: Somebody wants to write Elizabeth's biography, and she is absolutely dreading the entire process.**

Henry watched his wife at her desk. He had always enjoyed doing that, and now that her term as President was newly over and they had some semblance of a normal life back, he was drinking it in even more. She was, if you'd asked Henry, every bit as beautiful as she'd been the day they had met and somehow even more intelligent and sharp, and that moment in the warm light of her desk lamp, she looked radiant. She wouldn't have believed him had he said it, of course, so he kept it to himself. She knew he thought it, anyway. And besides that, Elizabeth looked deep in thought and he didn't want to disturb her. When she sighed heavily for the third time in ten minutes, however, Henry's mix of curiosity and concern got the best of him and he spoke up.

"What's up, babe?" he asked her lightly, and she glanced up as if she'd just noticed he was there, which, Henry reminded himself, she probably had.

"Oh," she sighed, leaning back in her chair as she twirled a pen between her fingers. "You remember Neal Shin?"

Henry thought on that for a second- _Neal Shin, Neal Shin, that name sounded familiar_ \- and then it hit him.

"Oh, the journalist who did that piece on you at State?" he asked, and Elizabeth nodded.

"Right, the one with the twins."

Henry loved that about Elizabeth, too- everyone was a human to her, more than just what they did or their accomplishments. Neal Shin had just been a journalist in Henry's memory, but he was a father in Elizabeth's.

"Yeah, what about him?" Henry asked. Elizabeth gestured to the screen of her laptop.

"He wants to write my biography," she said. Henry paused- he didn't quite see the problem with that. After all, Elizabeth's eight-year term as President had been largely successful and her life story was one that people were bound to be chomping at the bit to tell. It wasn't exactly a surprise, and Henry had anticipated that she might rather have someone she had some history with be the one to write it- that, or write it herself.

"Well, what's wrong with that?" he asked. Elizabeth groaned and leaned forward over her desk. Henry smiled just slightly at her theatrics and then stood, moving to stand behind her. She leaned back again, resting her head on the back of her chair so that she could look up at him. He smiled at her upside down and ran his hand over her forehead, tenderly brushing away strands of her light hair. Then he placed his hands on her shoulders, massaging tense muscles gently.

"It's just that I'm dreading the whole process," Elizabeth explained. "It's not about Neal," she continued. "In fact, if anyone has to do it I'd rather it be someone I at least have some history with and out of the existing journalists in the world I'd probably even choose Neal myself." Henry smiled- he'd been right in his thinking on Elizabeth's logic. However, he still seemed to be missing something.

"So what's the issue, exactly?" he pressed. "You knew this was coming, babe."

"I did," Elizabeth groaned. "But now that it's here it makes me feel all...squirmy."

"Squirmy?" Henry laughed.

"Listen, no one can expect me to be eloquent all the time," Elizabeth replied.

"Well, I was going to suggest you could just write it yourself, but if you're going to use words like 'squirmy' then I might not recommend that," Henry said lightly, earning him a swat to the chest by Elizabeth.

"It's just that I hate the idea of talking over everything with someone, even though I do like Neal," Elizabeth continued after their momentary lightness. "I'd have to explain everything. From my childhood to what happened to my parents and countless other things. Political decisions, non-political decisions, every summit I've ever been to, the CIA, Iran. There's so much that people don't know. It's giving me a headache just thinking about it."

Henry ran a hand through her hair and she sighed, meeting his gaze.

"I just wish someone who already knows everything could write it," she lamented, and then frowned as she watched Henry's eyes light up with the telltale sign of an idea.

"What?" Elizabeth asked. Henry quickly pulled a chair up beside her desk and spun her to face him. He leaned forward and watched her with intense hazel eyes.

"What?" she asked again.

"What if I write it?" he asked, and she raised her eyebrows at him. Then that seemed to sink in on her; she paused, and he could see her thinking it over.

"That's...actually a really good idea," she said slowly.

"You don't have to sound so surprised," Henry quipped, and she rolled her eyes at him before she met his gaze again.

"Henry, are you sure?" she asked. "It's a big undertaking."

"It's also an opportunity to tell the story of the love of my life for everyone else to see," he replied softly. "I'm sure, Elizabeth."

She smiled at him, leaned in, and kissed him warmly. He smiled slightly against her and when she pulled away she rested her forehead against his.

"I think I better email Neal back," she said. "You know, tell him I found someone more qualified."

Henry laughed.

"Hey, Elizabeth," he added as she turned away. She glanced back to find him smiling slightly at her.

"Yeah?"

"I'm qualified in other things too," he said. "And," he added, leaning over the back of her chair with his hands on her shoulders, slowly traveling along her arms as he positioned himself to whisper in her ear. "It might do me some good to familiarize myself with the subject of this book I'm writing."

She laughed, but a shiver had run up her spine as well.

"I think we can manage that," she said. "But only if you promise that none of the knowledge gained will make it into said book."

"Deal."


End file.
